Page 15 of Bright Lights and Summer Nights

Emma lets out a long sigh. “Yes. I can’t say no to an adventure—especially when it’s a week full of rich people things. Count me in—but you won’t see me before noon because part of my self-discovery is sleeping in.”

I nod, trying not to let her see the way my shoulders fall with a relieved sigh. “Understood. See you later, rebel.”

CHAPTER 8

EMMA

My head is pounding. It’s like there’s a tiny little guy with a hammer sitting between my temples, beating both sides of my skull.

I groan, realizing that my phone is vibrating on the pillow next to me. Pulling my own pillow over my head, I try to ignore it. My head is making it obvious I had a little too much to drink last night, and the last thing I want to do is talk to someone. All I want to do is go back to sleep and hopefully wake up without this excruciating headache.

My phone stops vibrating for not even a minute when it starts back up again. Another loud groan escapes me as I push the top half of my body and reach for it. Winnie’s picture pops up on the screen.

I slide to answer, trying to clear my dry throat. Maybe she needs me to meet a delivery driver or something for the house. “Hello,” I answer, realizing my voice sounds scratchier than normal.

“Emma!” Winnie excitedly says on the other side of the line. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

“What time is it?” I ask, letting my cheek fall into my pillow.

“It’s almost one in the afternoon,” she answers. “Were you sleeping?”

“Maybe,” I tell her, not wanting to admit I’ve slept that long. In my defense, it was early this morning when I even made it to bed to begin with.

Winnie sighs nervously. “So you haven’t seen any of my texts? Or the ones in the group chat?”

I pull my phone away from my ear for a minute, tempted to look at them because of her nervous tone. “No,” I answer, pressing the phone to my cheek. “What’d I miss?”

“Well…two things. Do you want the good news or bad news first?”

“Good news,” I respond immediately, far too hungover to get the bad news first.

She laughs. “I thought you’d say bad news first.”

“I had a little too much to drink at that fancy club last night. It was a great time, but oh my god, I’m paying for it today.”

“I know,” Winnie tells me.

“You know?” I ask, wondering if I called her last night. I thought I remembered most of the night, but now that I think of it, after Preston dropped me off, I don’t really remember going to bed.

“You’ve gone viral,” Winnie explains, her voice a little cautious as if she doesn’t know if the good news she’s telling me is actually good news.

I shoot up in bed, my heart racing. “What do you mean I’ve gone viral?”

“I told Margo I loved the video you posted early this morning. I think a lot of people our age can really resonate with it.”

“What did I post?” I ask, my heart racing in panic. I tug the phone away from my ear and put Winnie on speaker, anxiously opening up my profile. My eyes widen at the number on top.

“Seventy thousand followers?” I scream, blinking to see if it’s my eyes playing tricks on me. I went to bed with maybe nine hundred followers—and that might even be guessing a high number.

“Your video got twenty million views overnight,” Winnie points out. “I think that number is only going to grow, Em.”

I groan, focusing on the tiny thumbnail of my face for my most recent video. “Win, before I watch this, how drunk do I seem? Do I make a complete fool of myself?”

My stomach turns at the amount of people who’ve already watched it. If Winnie tells me I make a fool of myself in this video, I might just permanently go into hiding here in the Hamptons. Everyone here is in large sun hats and oversized sunglasses. I could totally go incognito and pretend I never put my face on the internet—not that I think anyone here would recognize me from one silly viral video anyway. I’m just being dramatic and having to think of possible backup plans in case I watch this video of myself and am completely mortified.

“You don’t make a fool of yourself at all,” Winnie reassures me, her voice easing a little bit of my nerves with how confident she sounds. “You can definitely tell you’ve had something to drink—but it isn’t messy at all. It’s relatable. Margo and I spent an hour on the phone today just reading all of the comments. People want more, Em. You don’t have to watch the video with me on the phone, but I’ll be here if you need me. Before we do that, I still have the bad news…”

I close my eyes, completely forgetting that she thought my drunk video going viral was considered good news. “I don’t know if I want to know.”

---