Page 97 of Grease Monkey
“Sleepy.”
“I know, so why don’t we get you home?”
She opens one eye and peers at me, the most adorable little scrunch to her nose, making her look confused.
“Okay.” Leaning forward, she pushes to her feet, her hand flattening against the wall as she steadies herself. Suddenly, she jolts forward. “Oh God.”
She pushes me out of the way, reaching a sink and hurling herself over it, barely managing to position herself above it before throwing up. The sound of water hitting porcelain, the smell of fruity drinks, and Ana’s body racked with sobs as she vomits up her entire stomach, fills the bathroom. Gathering her hair from her face, I hesitate before gently rubbing small circles on her back as she breathes deeply between bouts of vomit.
“I just want to feel better,” she cries, her fingers tightly curled around the sink as her arms shake from the shock of throwing up.
“Tylenol, water, and a good night’s sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“No. I want to stop hurting.” Her shoulders slump, and some of her hair lands in the bowl. I swallow hard, trying not to gag as I reach around her and turn on the tap, dipping the puke-covered strands under the water, and then tucking them over her shoulder.
“I don’t think you’ll be sick again. It will stop hurting soon.”
“No. You don’t get it,” she whines, and I can see her bottom lip lower in the mirror. “He hates me. He treats me like shit, but he doesn’t get how much I miss him. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
Her voice cracks, and it takes me a second to realize she’s talking about me. Shit, how drunk is she that she doesn’t realize she’s talking about metome? I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch her as her sobs carry over the sound of the tap.
“Why did you do it?” I hear myself asking. The one question that I’ve never had the chance to get the answer to. Maybe this is what I need to let her go and move on for good because Savanna was wrong when she called hermy girl, but completely right that I need to let it—her—go.
“I can’t say. If I say, Mom will ruin his family.”
I freeze, my blood turning to ice. “What?”
“I want to go home,” she says, lifting her head and grabbing paper towels.
I spin her and lean her against the sink. “Ana. What did you mean your mom will ruin my family?”
Her red-rimmed eyes meet mine, and she tries to focus. “I…”
“Morgs! Where are you?” Shay bursts through the bathroom door, her wide grin dropping as she takes in Ana’s tear-stricken face and my arms around her biceps. “What the fuck did you do?”
She pushes in between us and holds Ana’s face in her hands. “Babe? What happened? Are you okay?”
“She’s fine. She’s just drunk.”
Shay glowers at me from the mirror, and I swear I shrink in size. Shay is one scary bitch when she wants to be. “Did I ask you, asshole?”
“Shay…”
“No, Teddy. I don’t want to hear it. Just…” Ana groans, her head flopping to Shay’s shoulder, and her fight ebbs slightly. “Just leave so I can get her home.”
She wraps her arm around Ana’s waist, trying—and failing—to lead her to the bathroom door.
“Shay…” I start and rub the back of my neck. Without another word, I lift Ana from her, threading my arms under her legs and behind her back and carrying her bridal style out of the restroom. Bringing her to my car, Shay jogs in front and opens the door, popping the driver’s seat forward to let me lay Ana across the backseats, resting her head on a balled-up sweatshirt as Shay settles up front.
“How come you’re not as drunk as she is?” I ask, taking one last look at a passed-out Ana.
Clicking on her seatbelt, Shay glances over her shoulder at her best friend and sighs. “I forgot Morgs could never handle her liquor.”
I want to tear her a new one. Berate her for letting Ana drink so much if sheknewshe couldn’t handle her liquor. But I’m too tired and drained from seeing her—not just tonight, but since the first day she arrived in town. But more so, her drunken admission in the bathroom won’t leave room for much else.
Pulling up to Ana’s rental, Shay unlocks the front door as I carry Ana to her bed.
“Water and pain pills, Shay. She’s gonna be sore tomorrow.”
