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“How many drinks did you have?” he asked, steadying me.
I grinned widely, squishing his cheek with my hand. “I don’t know, but seriously buddy, why are you so hot? Did you, like, win the genetic lottery or something?”
He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on me as I continued to ramble on about how hot he was and how I’ve never kissed anyone yet.
“You know, I’ve always wanted my first kiss to be with someone like you,” I blurted out, the alcohol loosening my tongue.
His lips quivered into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Is that so?”
I nodded eagerly, feeling a boldness I’d never known before. “Yeah, like someone tall, dark, and handsome, with tattoos and muscles and, like, a really sexy accent.”
He chuckled, his fingers tracing lightly along my waist. “Well, lucky for you, it seems your wish has come true.”
My eyes widened. “Really? You mean… you want to be my first kiss?”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I think that can be arranged.”
A grin appeared on my face.
But then, suddenly, a hot fever took over my body, and sweat began to bead down my back. My heart started to race uncomfortably, and a wave of nausea swept over me.
He looked at me, concern flickering in his eyes. “Are you?—”
Before he could finish his question, I cut him off.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, clutching my stomach. “I’m gonna throw up!”
“Wha-”
But I was already stumbling away, desperate to find the nearest restroom before disaster struck.
I stumbled into the nearest bathroom, my vision swimming as I fought back the urge to vomit. The tiled floor felt cool beneath my feet as I hurried to the nearest stall, barely making it in time before the contents of my stomach erupted violently.
I doubled over, retching uncontrollably as wave after wave of nausea washed over me. It felt like my insides were trying to escape through my mouth, and I clung to the toilet for dear life, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the vomiting subsided.
I flushed the toilet and collapsed onto the cold tile floor, feeling utterly drained and miserable.
The echoes of the music from the club seemed distant now, replaced by the sound of my own ragged breathing and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above.
I stayed there for what felt like hours, trying to regain my composure.
Eventually, I managed to pull myself up and splash some cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the lingering feeling of sickness.
Feeling weak and shaky, I stumbled out of the bathroom and back into the club, searching for Claire.
I scanned the crowded dance floor, the dimly lit corners, and the bustling bar area, but there was no sign of her.
Panic began to rise in my chest as I realized she was nowhere to be found.
I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling as I typed out a message asking where she was.
Before I could hit send, a text notification popped up on my screen.
I hesitated for a moment before opening it, my heart sinking as I read the words:
C.C::
