Page 136 of So Not Meant To Be

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I spend the next half hour downing the rest of the bottle until there’s only an inch left.

I cry about the polar bears, watching them all over again.

I send an email to the pigeon place, inquiring about Kazoo.

And I text Breaker that I’m a loser who masturbates to exhalations.

And sometime in the night, when I’m just about ready to pass out, I send one more email from my private account.

To: McKayla, Kenzie, Hattie, Eileen, Barbie, Olivia, Betty, Rita, Jessica, Tess, Pauline, Dominique, Miranda, Cara

From: JP Cane

Subject: Be my Date

Hey ladieeees,

Sending a big old cock of an email because, you know... I have a big cock, so this email has to match.

Here’s the thing. Hux is getting married to Lulu Lemon and they told me I need a plus-one. Looking for a willing candidate to escort me down the aisle.

All expenses paid. Promises of pleasure.

If interested, hit me up.

I wear condoms still.

K. Bye.

JP

* * *

Fuck.

Me.

Ohhhh... fuck.

My stomach rolls, my body heaves, and I’m clutching my toilet, puking for the third time this morning.

Please, Jesus, make it stop. I promise to never drink that much again, just make... the... puking...

Fuck.

My body rears back, my stomach revolts, and once again, I let it rip until there’s nothing left inside me.

I slide to the bathroom floor and rest my heated cheek on the cold tile.

If hell was a place, I imagine it being this, over and over again. A hangover with a constant, throbbing headache and matching nausea.

I take a few deep breaths as my phone buzzes next to me on the floor. Needing a distraction, I look and see that it’s Breaker.

Breaker:Are you alive this morning? You texted me a picture of Kazoo eleven times last night, all in a row. That leads me to believe you didn’t stop drinking.

I lean against the wall as I text him back.

JP:I think I used up one of my lives last night. I’m pretty sure I just threw up a boot.

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