Page 39 of Wish You Were Mine

“Bummer. At least I have the memories.”

“Hey, boys,” Eugene called from the doorway.

Was it just me, or had he spoken a little too loudly? And did he need to look so perky? It was ass o’clock, and some of us felt like an unwashed ball sack.

“I have pancakes,” he announced, and I forgave him for everything. He raised the bottle in his other hand. “And maple syrup.”

As soon as he placed the pancakes on the table, I pounced. I loaded two onto my plate, then stacked bacon on top and drizzled maple syrup over everything.

Eugene sat opposite, and Heather joined us, carrying a tray of radioactively green drinks.

Toby’s eyes bugged out. “God, no. Don’t do this to us.”

Heather laughed. “Sorry, boys. If you drink half a bar’s worth of alcohol, you have to deal with the consequences.”

“Uh…I’m not actually feeling that bad,” I lied.

Everyone knew Heather’s homemade hangover cure was worse than the affliction itself.

Summer bounced in behind her, smiling evilly. “Bottoms up.”

Toby snatched one of the glasses and chugged it, wrinkling his face up as he did so. Summer raised her phone and snapped a photo. Toby shoved the glass away from himself and tore a bite from his pancake, using his hands and teeth. He chewed furiously and swallowed, then rinsed his mouth out with water.

“Delete that photo,” he panted, glaring at Summer.

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Nope.”

He slumped. “Come on, do me a favor. I already had to accept that my new girlfriend doesn’t love me after all.”

Summer rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you came off a little less intense…” She shook her head. “No. On second thought, don’t change a thing. Anyone who can’t handle you as you are doesn’t deserve you.”

“Aww. Does that mean—”

“Still not deleting it.” She pushed one of Heather’s concoctions toward me.

I drank it, knowing there would be no escape, and I pulled a face at Summer’s phone camera when she aimed it at me. I shoveled bacon into my mouth to erase the nasty taste and slimy sensation of it on my tongue.

Summer and Heather joined us at the table, and Summer smugly sipped from a mug of coffee that neither looked nor smelled green and revolting. Show off.

Halfway through the meal, I shot to my feet. “I forgot to feed Cookie.”

Summer wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Kennedy has taken care of it.”

I lowered myself back down. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure you’re doing all right?”

“As well as I can be.”

It was true, but also not the full story.

I hated having no memory of last night. I hadn’t been blackout drunk since my early twenties, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something important. The trouble was, if I didn’t remember, and no one else felt inclined to tell me, how could I know what it was?

19

SUMMER

“I can drop you both at home,” I volunteered as Toby and Asher were discussing the best way to get back to their respective houses. Neither of them felt up to driving.

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