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CHAPTER 1
‘Welcome to the room of people
Who have rooms of people that they loved one day’
Heathens – Twenty One Pilots
Rose
The pounding in my head is what wakes me up. Where am I again? What happened? I take a few seconds to trace back my night before I even think of opening my eyes.
-Getting ready for the ball
-Sam’s text
-Paying a visit to his distributors on the North Shore of the Falls
-Missing the ball for some sort of house party
-Chris’ incessant phone calls
-Heading back to Sam’s flat in Silver Falls
-Jake’s calls and–
“For fuck’s sake, stop listing shit so early in the morning,” I mumble to myself, finally opening my heavy eyelids.
There’s an arm resting around my waist, and I know from the light weight of it that it’s the girl that was in the car with Sam and I last night. I’m on my side, facing her way and when I can finally see clearly, I realize her head is nestled against my collarbone, her long blond hair tickling my chest. Emma. She was at the party in NSF. There’s a heavier arm coming from behind me, one that definitely doesn’t belong to a girl. The stranger’s arm is right between my breasts, his hand tangled in Emma’s hair.
Last night was a fucking mess. The number of lines I did with Carlo and Roy Diaz flash in my mind and I instinctively bring two fingers to my nose, grazing my nostrils before checking the tips. No blood.
“We’ll take that as a win,” I gratingly whisper to make myself feel slightly better.
I push away from the girl and move both arms away from me, getting up, not making the slightest effort to not wake them up. In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. They both stir awake as I step out of the bed to find my clothes. I grab my sweater from the floor, then my pants to retrieve my phone, not bothering to put them on. I turn back to the two on the bed, now only wearing my grey sweater and panties.
“Morning, gorgeous,” the guy says to me, stretching on the bed, smiling like the cat who got the cream when he sees both me and then Emma slowly waking up next to him. “And morning, gorgeous,” he tells her.
“Ugh,” I roll my eyes. This is fucking shit. I should have never let him join us. Straight guys desperate to finally have a threesome with gay girls are the worst.
What is his name? I don’t know, meaning I didn’t ask him. Otherwise, I would know. I don’t forget, ever. A curse more than anything else.
“Time to wrap this up,” I grumble at him. Emma is already getting dressed. Smart girl doesn’t need me to tell her to leave, she already knows. The fucker on the bed is clearly a little slower to understand.
I try to check my phone, but it’s dead. Shit. Jake is going to kill me. I can’t believe I didn’t make it back home to blow out our candles together. I really fucking hate myself right now. Chris is also going to kill me for disappearing on him and not giving a single sign that I’m alive.
I’ll handle them later.
First, I need to get home.
I grab my pack of cigarettes in my jeans just to find it empty. I look around the room and see a pack of Newports on the bedside table. They’re disgusting but it’s better than no nicotine at all.
-Menthol cigarettes
-Introduced in 1957
-Owned by–
‘Shut the fuck up. Seriously, shut the fuck up,’ I think to myself.
