“What?” I said.
She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Are you into this guy? I didn’t think he was your type.”
I jerked my head back and scowled. I leaned forward and whisper-shouted, “No way! I’m not into annnnnyone. I’m shingle.” I realized I was slurring and so did Ling.
She whipped her head around, looked at Lance, and then back at me. “Let’s go, Penny. You need to call it. You’ve had a long day.”
“Call who? Why? No I jusss fine. Ima goood.”
Ling was glaring at Lance. “Did you roofie her?”
He held his hand to his chest. “Are you kidding? No! I would never. I’m not even sure how she’s so drunk—she’s had, like, one beer and a couple shots.”
Ling glared at him even harder. “She’s a dancer, genius. She’s probably a total lightweight.”
I could see Lance blushing through my double vision. “She can come to my apartment on the third floor and sleep it off. I live in this building.”
“Um... noooo,” Ling said. “I’m calling her dad.”
“I’m standing riiiight here!” I yelled. “Ima big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Everything about the next hour was a blur. I remember being back in Ling’s apartment, and her trying to comfort me as I cried. She fed me a Hot Pocket and I threw it up in her bathtub. She gave me water and I threw that up, too. She threatened to call my dad and I begged her not to. She tried to lead me to the couch but her cat had pooped on it.
Finally, I felt warm arms around me. “P, I’m gonna take you to my place, okay? You’re safe.”
“No, Gavin. I can’t go with you. We’re jusss friends.” He was holding me up near Ling’s front door.
“Maybe I should take you home then. Your parents will probably be worried if you don’t come home, right?”
“Nooo, they don’t care. They only care about Kikiiii.” I pinched his arm.
“Ow!”
“No funny business!” I said.
He laughed. “No offense, but you have puke on your shirt and you’re about to pass out. That’s not really my thing.”
It was weird that his admission hurt my feelings, but it also made me like him even more. I passed out in the car. I don’t know how I got into his second-story apartment, or into his bed. All I know is that when I woke up the next morning, I was in one of his T-shirts and nothing else... and my hair was damp.Did he give me a bath? Did he see me naked?The sun was blasting me through the window, cooking my already injured brain with its Vita radiation.
Oh my God.
As I looked around, the only male in sight was Mike’s dog, Jackie Chan, at the foot of the bed, staring back at me.
“Hello, Jackie Chan.”
He cocked his head to the side.
“Did you strip me down and give me a shower?”
He cocked his head to the other side.
“Gavin!” I yelled.
A moment later, he was in the doorway, shirtless, wearing flannel pants. He grabbed the molding above the door and leaned into the room, showing off his ridiculous body. I could tell he had nothing on under his pajama bottoms.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said.
I sat up and leaned against the headboard, crossing my arms over my flat chest. “I’m completely naked under this T-shirt...yourT-shirt.”
