Page 38 of Total Ship Show

She.

Just.

Yakked.

Into.

My.

“Bag.”

And of course, as this is happening, a rather attractive guy walks by cringing at the total shit show he’s witnessing. I’m pretty sure we now look like a scene fromPitch Perfect…only we’re not trying to sing on stage or practice in a rehearsal room.

My hand on my forehead in complete disbelief, I can only stand by and watch as Jackie hurls not once but twice into my pool bag.

Goodbye sunblock.

Goodbye beach hat.

Goodbye bathing suit coverup.

Thank God I left my Kindle in Aris’s room and my cell phone in the outside pocket of the bag.

“Jackie…oh, God. Are you—”

She nods, her face still down inside my bag. “I’m so sorry Adrienne. I thought this was my bag.”

Slipping my hand in the front pocket to retrieve my phone, I smooth my other hand down her back, comforting her. “It’s fine. I can replace all that stuff. You’re much more important. We need to get you out of here, babe.”

Pippa’s face is now in a plastic bag as she wretches a third time and what the ever-loving fuck, it’s barfapalooza around here.

After cracking up to the point of tears a few minutes ago, Grace, irritated, finally throws her legs off the side of her lounger and springs to her feet. “Noooope!” She grabs her belongings. “I can’t do it. Sorry guys. I didn’t sign up for this shit. I draw the line at puke.”

“Grace!” I shout at her as I watch her walk away from our two sick friends.

Bitch.

As she goes, I hear her mumble, “Unbelievable…in the pool…bunch of lightweights.”

“We need to get them to their rooms,” I tell Amanda, Michelle, and Hillary. “I can grab them some bottled water and maybe some ginger ale, and I guess something salty to hopefully revive their stomachs, but they might just need to sleep this off.”

Amanda takes Pippa, Michelle takes Jackie, and Hillary takes hold of everyone’s belongings. “Maybe a Bloody Mary would help,” she says to me.

“Oooh, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll go see what the bar recommends. I’m sure this isn’t their first case of hangover-itis. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

As the girls go one way, I go the other and head to the nearest bar, but I don’t get fifty feet away before I run smack dab into Aris’s brothers.

Shit.

Adam smiles with a lift of his chin. “Hey Tayla. How are you?”

Right. Tayla. Got it.

“Hey!” I smile at them both. “I’m great guys. How are you?”

“Just about to hop in the pool while Mom and the girls finish up some shopping. You and Aris want to join us?”

“Uh,” I laugh nervously. “I hope you’re not thinking about that pool,” I tell them, gesturing to where I just came from. “Because it’s closed for cleaning.”

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