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“Dylan? Adam?”
Two groans answer Dean, then more retching sounds. Great.
Dean looks at me. What are we supposed to do?
It’s redundant, but I ask, “You guys . . . okay?”
More groans from the bushes.
Guess that answers that. Now what? I’ve never dealt with puking drunk guys before! Faye’s only puked once after drinking. It was at a New Year’s Eve party, and by the time she puked, Kellan had already driven us back to her house and she passed out almost immediately after.
Dylan plops himself down on the ground beside the bush with his eyes closed and his chest dirty; he obviously missed the bush at some point.
“Lor, why don’t you see if you can find Kellan or Alessio to help me get them back to our room?” Dean suggests, helping Dylan lean against the fence beside the bushes. “I’m going to get them water and a towel to clean them up. Unless you want to switch?”
I eye the puke on Dylan’s chest, and the smell hits me again.
It’s a no-brainer. “Nope! I’ll be back with Alessio or Kellan!”
Before Dean can change his mind, I escape like the coward I am, glad he’s taken control of the situation.
Even though it’s around two a.m., the party is still in full effect. There are people having fun everywhere, but there’s no sign of Alessio or Kellan. Eventually, I find Kiara and Anaya, who I was introduced to earlier by Dean.
“Hey, have you seen Kellan or Alessio?” I ask them.
Kiara crosses her arms across her chest and huffs. “Kellan went to bed. Something about not being in the party mood.”
Is he with Faye? Best to not walk in on that again.
“How about Alessio?”
“We haven’t seen Alessio since, like, the beginning of the party,” Anaya tells me with an apologetic shrug.
I thank them and head back to Dean. Looks like we’re going to have to do this on our own.
By the time I get back, both Dylan and Adam are sitting with their backs against the fence, their eyes closed and a nauseated expression on their faces. From what I can tell, Dean’s done a good job of cleaning them up.
“Any luck?” Dean asks me, and I shake my head.
Dean eyes the two boys and then me. “Well, Lor, looks like it’s up to us to help these idiots to their room.”
The two idiots protest at Dean’s use of the word, but it’s only a groan.
“Well, I haven’t been to the gym since I got here, so I guess it’ll be my workout,” I joke, eyeing Adam, whose lean body should be lighter than Dylan’s, though he’s still bigger than me.
Dean laughs. “That’s the spirit.”
He helps Adam to stand and so do I, putting Adam’s arm around my shoulder so I’m supporting his weight. He sways a bit but stands with little work on my side.
“I can manage on my own,” he protests, but his eyes are closed, and the weight I’m supporting says otherwise.
“It’s okay, I’ll help,” I tell him as Dean pulls Dylan up and mimics my position with Adam. Dylan looks like he’s in a much worse state.
“I’m okay . . . really. I don’t need help,” Adam protests and tries to push off me, but he instantly sways. I catch him before his face becomes acquainted with the cement floor.
“It’s okay,” I tell Adam, wrapping my arm around his waist as his arm slips over my shoulder again. If it wasn’t a superinappropriate time, I would’ve totally squealed about how I have my arms aroundAdam Murray.
“Dude,” Dean tells his cousin, “if you puke on me, I’ll kill you.”
