Page 98 of A Country Kind Of Love
Cleo’s smile turnsmischievous.
15
Peyton can taste tequila... mixed with garlic sauce?
It makes her stomach churn.
The two open Papa Johns pizza boxes drenched in garlic sauce wrap up the mystery swiftly. She has one eye half-open whilst the other adjusts to the piercing daylight.
A flashback from the night before: Jesse’s bandmate Charlie gets swallowed by Bugsy the tarantula... No, that part must’ve been a dream. Charlie gets bitten by Bugsy? That makes more sense. Through the crack in her eyelids she can see Charlie’s legs strewn over the edge of the sofa; his body is lying parallel with the floor, and his hand is bandaged. She remembers wrapping his hand in her heroic first responder character. What did she call her now?
“Morning, Bonnie the Brave.” Jesse sniggers. That’s the name.
“Why do you sound... alive?”Peyton asks.
She spies Cleo at the other end of the sofa. Their legs are entangled, and it’s impossible to move.
“Ow! Cleo, you’re trapping my leg.” She wriggles free; Cleo groans and turns back the other way.
“A Slurpee and pickle juice. Works every time.” Jesse retrieves the bin bag from the kitchen counter and starts to cleanup the mess.
Eww.
“What the hell happened last night?” She scratches her head. The evening started civilized. She recalls a standard game of beer pong and Jesse carrying a tray of shots, or more than one tray of shots? It’s blurry, but she’s positive the liquid in the shot glasses changes from white, to red, to green in her hazy recollection.
“We had A LOT to drink.” Jesse chuckles. He trips over a rogue bottle of wine and almost lands face down in a bowlof Cheetos.
NeverHave I Ever—
That’s where it allwent wrong.
The classic staple of any Fresher’s dorm party, but most college students would use something cheap, like beer or vodka, not a large glass of—tequila. Jeez. Her stomach churns again.
“Why?” She puts pressure onher temple.
“Here, take these.” Jesse hands her two painkillers and a glass of water.
“No pickle juice for me?”
“I’m not sure you can handle it,”Jesse jests.
“You’re probably right.” The pain killers will take the edge off, but they won’t cure it. In her rebellious teenage years, she recalls her dad firmly lecturing her on the dos and don’ts of drinking responsibly. The only hangover cure is to drink moderately or not at all. Hehad a point.
A girl half falls half clambers out of the egg chair and runs for the bathroom holding her mouth.
“Who’s that?”Peyton asks.
Jesse shrugs.
“She’s with me—” Charlie’s hand appearsin mid-air.
Peyton manages to drag herself upright. The room spins like she’s just stepped off a merry-go-round at lightning speed. She has a better view of the apartment from her new position, and it’s bad.
“Damn.”She exhales.
“I’ve seen worse.” Jesse laughs.
She doesn’t find that hard to believe; Jesse is a free spirit. He’s been on some strange adventures and found himself in some strange situations. He told her about a time he went camping in the mountains with two friends. They met a group of hippies in a camper van and spent the next two days travelling through the South. He slept in an old abandoned lodge in the mountains, got high as a kite on shrooms, and to this day, he believes he foughtoff a bear.
