Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(93)

Big word. I giggled.

“And some of Lump’s drink.” Did I just say that out loud? “Doooode, I’m hammered! Ha ha ha. Lump, your drink is intense. What is it? Cran and vodka, right? Is there crack in that cran? Ha ha ha.”

“Jessica...” She leaned into me, her eyes studying mine closely.

“I don’t do girls, Lump. Lump-a-Dump.”

I saw the hottest guy in the world walking in. “William! FYI, Moose’s sex life just went down the drain for a couple days. The pipes ‘r all twisted. Someone should warn the girlfriend. Side note, mine are a go. Let’s do it!”

“Jessica,” William said quizzically. “What’s wrong with you?”

Adam walked up next and stopped when William got that edge to his voice that said something wasn’t right with me.

“ADAM!” I yelled. “You should seriously hook up with my friend Lump. You remember her? Pretty, big boobs. Really nice. She’s around here somewhere. She is really nice. She is probably my best friend. I love her. A-sexually. Worms are A-sexual, did you know? You can cut them in half, and they live! Crazy, right? Sucks they have to get drowned when you go fishing, though.”

I burped. Then my head spun.

“Oh,” I groaned, staggering. “Don’t feel good. Must sit down.”

William caught me before I hit the ground.

“William, I know that you will try leave me. I am no good for you. I am poor and helpless. Ful. Helpful. You too good girl like me. Perfect. I am not.... Fuck, I am drunk. I need to pass out for reals, guys. I need home to go.”

I started to get up, which looked like a beetle stuck on its back, because someone was holding me down.

“When she gets super wasted and needs to puke she is like a homing beacon,” Lump commented from atop a cloud and behind a veil. “She’ll get home somehow and usually without telling anyone.”

“Lump. Don’t tell my secrets!”

Things were not looking good for me. “What the H. E. Double hockey sticks was that drink, Lump? Are you taking drugs? You can tell me. I will help you. Need. Sit. William. Oh William. I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

“Jessica,” William said urgently, really close to my face. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I need to go home, guys.” I headed for the door. Being that I was still laying down, I think that meant I was trying to swim across the floor to get there. My vision was starting to swirl. Puking was close.

“What did you drink, Jessica? What did you take?” William sounded so scared.

“William, I’m your personal boogey-man. Scare you con-stant-en-opal. Train wreck. But I love you. I gotta go home. Need home. Please. Need cab.”

I heard Lump fairly far away. “Get her out of here. She’ll probably start throwing up.”

“What did she take, Betsy? What did you take in the bathroom?” That was William. Things were starting to warp strangely.

“Nothing William! I swear! Nothing! We don’t do drugs. She had a couple beers is all.... and some of my drink! Someone get my drink.”

“Don’t feel good,” I moaned. I tried to get up again. “I’m gonna pass out.”

I was lifted. Everything was starting to swirl. I was f**king hammered and sleepy. Christ, when is the last time I was this drunk and sick?

Chapter Nineteen

I woke up in a strange bed in the dark. I was completely disorientated. The room was moderate size and square but I couldn't see any light coming from windows, which was strange. The bed I was on was hard with scratchy sheets. I had too many of the wrong kind of pillows, which meant simply that I was on top of my pillows, rather than squished into them like I liked.

I stayed very still. I had been in this situation before. Usually with an unknown guy. But I was with William last night. Right?

With a feeling of intense dread that I did something so beyond stupid it would probably ruin my life, I thought as hard as I could about the night before. About where the hell I was. About how I got to where ever the hell I was.

Think.

There was a stale disinfectant smell that I always associated with hospitals. I looked around. My bed had bars… That's when I noticed a tube in my arm.

I panicked! This was a hospital! I sat up at once, the room swimming around me. There was a curtain off to my right, which was why I couldn't see windows. The TV in the corner, the bathroom—oh God, it was a real hospital.

All my fears from my father's slow death came back in a flood, except this time it was me in the bed. Was I dying?

I couldn't breathe. I pulled the tube from my arm, which was painful and my arm started to bleed. I tried to get out of the bed. Being as dizzy as I was didn't help. I couldn't focus long enough to navigate the sheets, bars, and horrible pillows.

"Jessica," William whispered from the corner sleepily.

"William! Get me out of here!" I cried.

"Calm down, love. You aren't hurt. You aren't dying. They'll let you out in the morning. Just go back to sleep."

"Why am I here? What happened? I want to go home." The panic wouldn't subside. A million flash backs were coming at me at once. My dad's sickly yellow skin color. The smell and feel of his clothes when I finally had to pull them from that hospital closet after he passed. His skeleton-like face toward at the end.