Page 29 of Villainous Summer

Covering her with the blanket, I couldn’t help but press a kiss to her forehead. Her wet hair smelled of soap and flowers. Something about that drew an ache in my chest.

She rolled over to her side, mumbling, “You might not, but he will.” She relaxed, and her breathing deepened.

After leaving her keys on the counter, I let myself out.

Summer

My mouth was putrid fruit and bitter chalk. I rose fourteen hours later to the unmistakable memories of my terrible decisions the day before. Had I really drunk that much? Eaten anything? I got that message from Nico checking in on me. There was the kiss, the feel of Van’s hands in my hair, the desire between us, then a blur. I had several drinks, then someone had passed out shots of something bright red and sweet. Might have been vodka-based, might have been rum. Was definitely a bad idea.

When I was eleven, I was recruited to walk in a fashion lineup at a wedding show. Along with a dozen other kids, I got to wear formal dresses from the local bridal store. I was thrilled to sport puffy pastel taffeta and strut down the runway alongside beauty queens. After three full-skirted flower-girl gowns, the owner placed me in a tight green dress, saying I was modeling for the junior bridesmaid line.

At the end of the catwalk, I performed my trademark twirl as the shrill of tearing fabric let in cold air that hit my bare back and butt.

So, up until last night, I would have said showing off my pink fairy princess underwear to a crowd of hundreds was the most embarrassing moment of my life.

I saw Van in passing as the fading afternoon sun waned in the sky. At one point, Devin found me, dragging me to her room, and demanded to know what had gotten into me. I told her everything. I expected reproach for either the naked pictures or the champagne-throwing incident, but instead, she just asked me what I was going to do about it.

With stumbling fingers, I had created a new note on my phone titled “Operation Super-Villain.” I couldn’t remember much after that.

I started walking home with a disgruntled Van.

Did I tell him he was too handsome to trust? Ugh, I did.

Flashes of me throwing up came and went, and I couldn’t remember if it was on Van. I hoped not. Then I was in bed, wearing my father’s old Perth Sailing shirt from his time in the navy.

Van stayed for a bit. I couldn’t even imagine what he must have thought about me after my disgraceful antics.

A quick inventory of my apartment showed my keys on the counter beside a hardened pretzel. My stomach grumbled, and I grabbed the solid snack and, with my front teeth, ripped off a section. The starchy carbohydrate was better than nothing.

After splashing water on my face and brushing the terrible tangles out, I picked up my phone to check that it was past my normal 8 a.m. alarm.

For years, even after a night of drinking until the late morning, my body would naturally wake at eight.

A text from Autumn was at the top of my notifications.

Autumn: Forget the day’s troubles, remember the day’s blessings.

I groaned and set my phone down.

My hangover was not conducive to my cousin’s mantras.

No one responded to Autumn’s mantra. We never did anything more than add a heart to it, anyway, but Devin and Wren had been planning for us all to meet at Sticky Cow Brewery in an hour.

Every cell in my aching head and screaming body wanted to skip it, but I hadn’t seen Wren in months since she moved an hour and a half away to Icicle Creek with her new boyfriend. And while I got to see Devin the night before, that was a complete wash after my shenanigans. Looks like I was going downtown again.

At the brewery, Devin was at the table, wearing her thick black-frame glasses, a graphic tee with a cartoon corgi that said Even baddies get saddies, and a little skirt.

Autumn waved as Wren and Adrian joined us.

He carried four full glasses as Wren walked beside him with her own. A small caramel-colored, wiry-haired dog padded alongside them. Wren must have given our orders at the bar because my normal strawberry wheat beer was placed in front of me.

Even their porters matched, alongside their red T-shirts and blue jeans. Wren’s dark curls were wilder than I had ever seen, but a calm happiness radiated from her. She and Adrian were so blissfully in love and glowing in the summer light that it made my stomach roll.

I couldn’t begrudge Wren for finding a nice guy who made her happy. She certainly had her share of shitty men in the past few years. But seeing the way he leaned into her and kissed a spot behind her ear was too much for my hungover state to handle.

They exchanged introductions, and I tried to keep up with their tales of their moving escapades.

Thankful that Autumn didn’t drink alcohol, I skipped my beer, grabbed Autumn’s ginger ale, and took a big gulp, hoping I wouldn’t spew all over the oyster shell firepit.

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