Heart suddenly hammering and alcohol twisting and twirling through my veins, Ineededto get out of the house. No one chased after me, too busy crowded outside the bathroom, where Meredith was probably holding Katie’s long hair back as she purged her soul of all her sins. My guess was it would be a while.
We’d been having too much fun to notice the downpour happening outside, but I let myself get soaked as I unlatched the Defender’s trunk and climbed into the back of the car. Heavy raindrops pounded against the soft roof, and I was woozy after heaving myself over the back seat.You are drunk, I thought.Soooooo drunk.
Hands shaking, I pulled my phone from my pocket and fumbled to unlock it. I had several messages from Marco, but he’d accidentally switched to his Spanish keyboard.
Spanish wasn’t my top subject, and I didn’t have enough control over my fingers to tap a text back, so I called him. “Hello?” he picked up on the fourth ring, voice breathless like he’d raced to catch me. “Mads?”
I opened my mouth; not even a hiccup came out.
“Mads, are you there?” he asked, and when I didn’t respond, he said, “I don’t know if you’ve seen my texts or been on Instagram tonight, but—”
“It’s you!” I shouted over the rain. “Marco, it’syou!”
And…nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
The line was silent long enough for salty tears to spill from my eyes.
“It’s me?” Marco eventually whispered, and I could hear the wince in his voice—a wince that told me he understood. I had a crush on him, one so massive it amazingly hadn’t hit me until now.
“Yes,” I said, then tried swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, wishing I could take the words back.
Because my confession had sealed our fate.
Nineteen
I woke up early the next morning, convinced that an anvil had fallen on my head because it hurt so badly. My eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying myself to sleep, and it felt like someone was stirring sludge in my stomach.
I decided to pack up my stuff and head home, using my spare set of keys since Meredith still had mine. About an hour into the drive, I felt so nauseous that I had to pull over on the side of the highway to blow some chunks. Where was Rose Álvarez’s magic preventive hangover potion when I needed it?
Then, I called my parents. They were furious that I’d left with such a hangover.
And somehow, they beat me home from Newport. “We’re going to discuss thisat length,” Dad emphasized. “But first, you need to drink about a gallon of Gatorade and then get to bed…”
I slept for fourteen hours but felt sick all over again when Reese sent the bridesmaid chat a compiled video of everyone’s first and last Saturday drink. I watched myself, all sunshine andsmiles, take a sip of wine before the clip cut to that night. Reese had caught me in the kitchen, soaked from the rain. I lookedrough. “Yeah, I’m Mads,” I said, tipping melted daiquiri over the sink. “You know I’m a bridesmaid, and I’mdumpingmy final drink of this super enlightening evening.”
Meredith had texted me to ask if I was okay, and I told her I was alive but not exactly thriving.You were right. I overdid it.
It seemed like everyone needed a break from one another, because the chat went silent for a while. Amanda wrote to say our bridesmaid dresses had arrived at long last, but that was it.
Ididmiss the group a little; in a way, the bridesmaids felt like another team I’d played for this year, but high school field hockey started in a few days. It would fill the void.
***
I didn’t block Marco again, but I declined his calls and ignored his texts, so either he would get the message and stop trying to contact me, or he’d get the message and show up in person to have it out. Because that’s what I planned on doing if/when he eventually knocked on my door. The whole drive home from the Finger Lakes, I’d kept replaying our conversation.
Marco:It’s me?
Me:Yes.
Marco, after the most awkward pause in existence:Mads, it’s not that I don’t care for you, but—
I hadn’t listened to thebut. Instead, I hung up on him. It was a reflex; I was too scared to know what he’d been about to say.Mads, it’s not that I don’t care for you, but…
You’re just a kid.
