“Son of a gun,” I groan as I squeeze my eyes shut against the light in the room. The entire cast of Stomp! appears to have taken up residence in my head, my mouth feels like the Sahara, and I’m pretty sure there is alcohol seeping from my pores.
“Abbi.”
“Shut it, Jess,” I whisper, regretting it the moment the words leave my lips. The pounding is now a dull roar and I’m honestly not sure which is better.
“Come on, Abs,” my former best friend pleads quietly. “I brought you the best hangover cure. Trust me, it’s how my mom keeps her stupid job after going on a bender.”
I crack an eye open and try to focus on her blurry face. “This is all your fault, I don’t know if I trust your cure,” I grumble.
Jess giggles and gently tugs on my shoulder, encouraging me to sit up. “Your parents will be home in a couple of hours.”
Her words get me moving despite the pain. Crap. I knew last night was a bad idea. But, Jess had been bugging me to “live a little” and demanded that she be in charge of me on my eighteenth birthday. I don’t know how she got me to agree. Liar, liar ... Okay, I know exactly how. Because a little part of me has wanted to be like Jess for the longest time. Carefree, sexy, adventurous, and all the things I’m not.
I’m a straight A student who never gets into trouble, never breaks the rules, wears frumpy clothes or a school uniform, and is probably going to die an eighty-year-old virgin. You have to talk to boys in order to, you know, go all the way. So, I gave in, for one night. I wanted to see what it felt like to be a rebel. The irony of it is, I can’t remember what it felt like. I doubt I’ll forget the morning after any time soon though.
I shift to sit up and a new pain sears through my body. Except, this one is coming from my ... um, private area. I didn’t—no—Jess would never let me—oh, gosh—what if ...
“Jessica Pamela Stewart,” I grit through clenched teeth, “Please tell me you didn’t let me giveaway my virginity to a random guy when I was so drunk I don’t even remember it?!?” If my head weren’t about to explode, I’d be screaming right now.
Jess raises her brow in surprise. “You don’t remember anything about last night?”
I move my head back and forth in the tiniest motion to avoid waves of nausea.
“Well, shit”—I wince at her use of profanity, though you’d think I’d be used to it after being best friends since fifth grade—“I didn’t expect that. No, little virgin Mary, your innocence is intact. Well”—she pauses and cocks her head to the side, a sly grin on her face—“mostly.”
“What the heck does ‘mostly’ mean?”
“You wanted to do something permanent, something to remind you to break out of your shell. So I suggested you get something pierced.”
But the pain was ... no way. “I got my lady bits pierced?” This time, I did shriek and then promptly dropped my head into my hands as it burst open and what was left of my brains spilled out.
This can’t be happening. Jess is laughing and when I’m able to lift my head again, I glare at her. “I can’t believe you talked me into a piercing ... down there.”
“Oh no. Don’t blame this on me. I suggested the piercing, you chose to have it in your pussy.”
Another cringe at her crass language. You really need to stop being so uptight, Abbi. Wasn’t that what the piercing was all about? Loosening up and finding a brave, new Abbi? It’s not like anyone but Jess would know about it.
It would be my own little rebel secret. Perhaps there is hope for me yet.