Six
Eliza’s skull wasn’t going to hold her brain anymore. That had to be what was happening—the bone was fracturing and everything was just going to leak out, because nothing else could hurt this much. She put a hand to her forehead and forced open an eyelid, the morning sunlight like a knife to her eyeball. She groaned and pressed her face back into the pillow.
I’m never, ever, ever drinking again. Ever.
Her mouth was dry and sour, and her stomach was an empty pit. She rolled onto her back, a fresh wave of regret washing over her. How had she let this happen? She wasn’t some nineteen-year-old college kid who got out of hand at dollar-shot night at the bar. She was a grown-ass woman and knew better than this.
Her mind drifted back to the previous night, big blurry spots painted across her memory. She remembered some of the food. There’d definitely been a beignet involved. She remembered Ryan talking and talking and talking and him wanting to go back to his place, and the anger that had flooded her about the drinks. She remembered—oh God—vomiting in Beckham’s trash can and talking about her online dating life. Them talking about sex with friends.
Everything inside her cringed in mortification. She’d made itso weird. He probably thought she was some charity project. He’d have sex with her if she needed it.
Shoot me now.
That was it. She had her new thirty-day challenge. No more drinking.
She dragged herself out of bed to brush her teeth and take care of the necessities before grabbing her phone, letting Mabel outside, and heading to her living room with a giant mug of coffee. She took a sip and picked up her phone, ready to call Andi so she could download her horrible night to her best friend. Andi would somehow make her laugh about it and would promise to write Ryan into one of her horror novels and then kill him off in some embarrassing way. Or maybe she should just text both Andi and her other friend, Hollyn, and see if they wanted to meet up this morning. But when she unlocked her phone, the screen was filled with notification bubbles. Comment. Comment. Comment. Follow. Comment.
Her brain was slow processing the flood of little boxes. She clicked one of the notifications. “What the hell?”
Solo on Christmas?
5 Ways to Make the Holiday Special
3k views
Weekly Wellness with Eliza Catalano
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132 Comments
Avil337215 minutes ago
This bitch is craaazy
Duuude6777A32 minutes ago
Looks like someone needs an intervention.
HunnyBear9G941 minutes ago
Wow. Just…wow.
GrrrlllEd211 hour ago
Eliza r u ok? Let us know!
The comments were posted on her latest YouTube video. She scrolled through, trying to make sense of the comments. Had she been hacked?
The older comments were ones directly talking about the content of her video, but new comments had started popping up a few hours ago that seemed to be about something else. She skimmed through, and a tight, sinking feeling filled her gut. Some of the comments were straight-up vicious, calling her names and insulting her. Others were some of her regular followers checking on her. Then she came across one that came in during the middle of the night.
AlienXDirt4 hours ago
Ppl pay HER for advice? Better ask for a refund! Check outthis link.
With heavy dread in her chest, she clicked the link in the comment, hoping it would just bring her to some random porn or spam site, something easily explainable. But instead, she was led to a site she didn’t recognize calledWorst. Date. Ever.
The site was styled like a Reddit page. There were user posts of what looked to be stories and videos that people could comment on. Her attention jumped around, not knowing where to land, but when she scrolled down a bit, the newest video titledFrom Serious Bore to Crazy Whorehad her muscles freezing. The screenshot had her own face staring back at her.