JACKIE
Bang! Bang! Bang!
My eyes feel glued shut.
What’s that noise?
Buzzz…Buzzz…Buzzz.
The horrible taste in my mouth makes me question if I’m even alive.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Alright, alright…” My voice sounds like it crawled out from the underworld.
Where’s my damn phone?
Through the pounding at the front door, I manage to stumble downstairs, clutching the banister for dear life. Every step feels like trudging through wet cement. My stomach’s rolling on itself.
Can you actually die from a hangover? Because if so, I’m done for.
I’ve barely cracked the door when Carter storms past me. “Did you watch the news?”
His tone should probably set me off, but my brain is still foggy.
“Obviously not,” I croak, gesturing at my rumpled pajamas.
His lips thin, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and after a beat, he motions me to the kitchen. I shuffle behind him like a zombie, still not translating the tension in his shoulders.
In a few swift movements, he gets a cup of coffee ready and slides it in front of me. “Drink. Fast.”
“It’s hot,” I mutter, but I take a sip anyway. A sliver of his agitation finally pushes through the grogginess.
Carter stands rigid, arms crossed, a tablet clenched in one hand.
I grumble under my breath, but each sip of coffee clears my mind, layer by layer. That’s when it finally dawns on me that Carter has barged in on a Saturday morning, looking disheveled and stressed.
“What’s wrong?”
He sets the tablet on the island and nods for me to press play. Hesitant steps take me closer, but I freeze at the title.
Drunk Tech Barbie.
My stomach flips. With trembling fingers, I start the video. The club from last night fills the screen. Music, lights, dance floor, and then…
I stop breathing.
It’s me.
Slumped against the booth. Eliza rubbing my arm while my head rests on her shoulder. At first, you can only hear the loud music, but then the camera moves closer.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “There was no one near our table.”
Carter’s voice is grim. “There’s more.”
The camera stops behind the velvet curtain, the shot tight on our table. Then my voice rings out clearly.
“…the biggest mistake of my life. The only thing I can’t fix. He won’t ever forgive me. He hates me,” I moan.
