Page 27 of The Weekend Getaway

Sarah

Sarah didn’t want to do the shot.

She was drunk enough, already beyond buzzed, wasted, and didn’t want to wake up tomorrow with a colossal headache, puking all over the place, but she didn’t think she should refuse.

Because Mia was insisting they have tequila.

Sarah didn’t want to let Mia down, for whatever reason, even though she didn’t owe Mia a drink with her. They weren’t even good friends like that. Or frenemies. They were something in between. Sarah didn’t know how to define the relationship. They’d known each other a long time, since they were kids, but they didn’t know each other. The relationship was familiar but shallow.

Mia was someone Sarah could have a good time with without the burden of having to confide confessions or listen to secrets. Not that Mia had any confessions or secrets. Sarah wished she did. Wished Mia had moments when she didn’t give a damn and did dirty, unspeakable things with someone other than Alex.

Alex certainly did dirty, unspeakable things with girls who weren’t Mia.

Sarah had done dirty, unspeakable things with Alex at the party tonight. Although their hookup at the party hadn’t been the first time they were together. Technically, they were unofficial friends with benefits. Except Alex wasn’t her friend. He was her friend’s boyfriend. Except Mia wasn’t really her friend either. Whatever. Alex was a guy she had dirty, unspeakable sex with whenever they were in the mood for each other. Which was quite often.

Which was something Mia could never know. Or even suspect. Sarah had a feeling that Mia would kill her, literally stab her in the chest, if she found out that Sarah and Alex were secretly hooking up. And it was kind of a shame that Mia was so obsessed with Alex and loyal to him. Alex didn’t extend the same love and devotion to Mia.

Sarah wasn’t even sure if Alex really liked Mia.

When she and Alex were trying to catch their breaths after going at each other for several hours, Alex would complain that Mia was too clingy and needy.

“She’s too fucking insecure,” Alex had once told her. “She needs to go to therapy. She didn’t grow up with a father, orsome shit. So what? You think my old man gave a shit? You see me bitching about it?”

And yet, despite Alex’s complaints, when Sarah suggested he break up with her, Alex had balked.

“She’ll be a good wife,” he’d said. “She’ll do what I tell her to do, when I tell her to do it, and how I want it done.”

Sarah might have disputed Alex’s beliefs, but he was right. All Mia talked about was marrying Alex, being his wife, having his kids, making a life with him. She was majoring in “Mrs.” Nothing and no one would stand in her way of getting that coveted degree.

“Come on …” coaxed Mia, a hint of something threatening in her voice, a subtle demand. Do it or else. But, do it or else … what? Sarah didn’t know. And she didn’t want to find out. Instead, she took the shot glass, put it to her lips, and drank, tilting her head back.

Sarah regretted the decision as soon as the bitter, vile liquid touched her tongue, but she toughed it out, made a quick sour face, which Mia shared.

Laughing, Sarah expelled a wild, celebratory whoop as the liquor burned in her gut.

CHAPTER 23

Fifteen Years Ago

1:26 a.m.

Grace

“What’s the matter?” Grace asked, staring at Sarah, who leaned against the wall, pressing a hand against her forehead.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “Feel kind of weird.”

“Weird how?” Grace asked, scanning the crowd, looking for Chris. She hadn’t seen her boyfriend in a few hours, although she wasn’t too worried. She liked Chris a lot, probably even loved him, but she wasn’t one of those girlfriends who wanted to know his every move or where he was at all times of the day.

She wasn’t like Mia, who clung to Alex like her life depended on it.

Grace didn’t find Chris interesting enough to be that invested in the minute-by-minute minutia of his existence.

“Weird like …” Sarah exhaled, shaking her head. “I don’t know … like everything is spinning.”

“It’s the lights and the music,” Grace explained, swaying to the thumping rhythm. “Makes you feel like you have synesthesia.”

Sarah frowned. “What is that?”

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