“Hey, you need to wake up,” a man says as he tries to shake me awake.
I stir slowly, sure that it is a dream since I don’t recognize the voice.
“Wake up,” the same voice says again.
I open my eyes and find the prettiest shade of blue twinkling back at me. I smile. I can’t help it. Whoever this person is can’t be bad. I try to sit up, but I am immediately attacked with symptoms—headache, nausea, and dizziness. I close my eyes and lie back down. I try to remember what happened.
Alcohol, lots of alcohol—that’s what happened.
I open my eyes and sit up more slowly this time. Brent is no longer standing over me. He has moved to the kitchen and is pouring a glass of water. My mouth begins watering at the sight. I watch as he drinks down the glass instead of offering me a drink.
I sigh. What did I expect from a man who passed out rather than making sure I was still alive and breathing after I’d run to his bathroom?
“I figured you would be gone by now,” he says.
I smile weakly. I know that’s just talk for, Please leave now.
“I need to borrow your phone to call a cab. I…” I don’t want to explain that Scarlett took my phone. “I lost mine,” I say instead.
He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and tosses me his phone. I call for a cab, and it will be here in five minutes. I stand from the couch and feel the cricks in my neck and back from sleeping on the small love seat. I should book a massage for later. I grab my shoes, not bothering to put them on, and hand Brent his phone before walking myself to the door. I pause at the door, waiting for him to open it for me, to ask for my number…anything.
He doesn’t. Instead, his focus is now on his phone.
I open his door and pause again, waiting for him to say anything.
Nothing.
“I guess I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Yeah, see you around,” he says without glancing up from his phone.
I sigh as I walk out of his apartment. I thought the guy had potential. I thought he was a nice guy who could at least give me one good night of passion. I wasn’t expecting love. I wasn’t expecting even much more than one night, but I thought we could at least have one enjoyable night together. I was wrong.
I tried Scarlett’s little experiment. I did what normal college kids did. I got drunk and attempted to have a one-night stand. It sucked. I’d liked my life before—when I did whatever my family had asked of me. That was more enjoyable than this.
“Where the hell have you been?” I hear as soon as I walk into my apartment.
I smile. “Good morning.”
“Don’t good morning me. I have been worried sick and trying to fend off your family all fucking night. Where the hell where you?” Scarlett says.
I ignore her and walk to my closet to put my shoes back in their correct place. I slip off the crop top and pull on a comfy T-shirt instead. Scarlett storms in before I’ve even finished changing.
“Well?” she asks again. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her foot is tapping slowly on the hard floor as she waits for my answer.
“I was with Brent.”
“You were with, who?”
“Brent.”
“I heard you the first time. You couldn’t have been with a guy!”
I laugh. “Too late.” Although I think you have to get further than second base to actually say I was with a guy.
“Kinsley Elizabeth Felton! You were supposed to get drunk, flirt with some guys, and then come back here with me to sleep it off—not go home with a complete stranger without telling me.”
“Calm down, Scar,” I say, brushing past her and heading to my kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Don’t Scar me. You…you can’t just…”
I laugh, seeing Scarlett so flabbergasted. She didn’t think little ole me had it in me to have a one-night stand. Well, I did—sort of.
I sigh. “Calm down, Scar. Nothing happened.”
“What do you mean, nothing happened? You went home with him!”
“Yeah, well…something almost happened, but then I threw up, and he passed out on the couch while I was in the bathroom.”
Scarlett’s body visibly relaxes at my words, but it doesn’t stop her questions. “Why did you go home with him though?”
“I don’t know.” I fill my glass with filtered water. “I was drunk.”
Scarlett shakes her head. “Just don’t do it again.”
I take a long gulp of water as I stare at Scarlett in disbelief. “You were the one who pushed me to go out.”
“Yeah, and you are supposed to listen to every word I say, not go off and make your own stupid decisions like that.”
I roll my eyes at her change from wild friend to motherly concern even though she has every right to be concerned. The last time I did anything remotely crazy, it ended badly.
A phone vibrates, and Scarlett reaches into the pocket of her jeans. She pulls out my phone, and a worried look crosses her face. “I think you’d better answer it. Your father has been calling you nonstop, every twenty minutes, all night.”
I stare at the phone, afraid to take it from Scarlett’s hand. I know what’s waiting for me on the other end of that phone—yelling…lots of yelling and lecturing about my responsibilities, how immature I was last night, and how my parents should take everything away and give it to someone who will respect their terms. I can already hear my father’s stern voice now.
“I’m surprised they haven’t already shown up here,” I say honestly.
Scarlett’s eyes grow wide with fear as she thrusts the phone into my hands. “Answer it before they do. I don’t think I could survive getting a lecture from your father.”
I smile weakly as I stare at the still vibrating phone. It’s not my father I have to worry about though. Our relationship has always been good. It’s my grandfather’s lecture that I am worried about.
“Hello?” I say when I answer the phone. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer earlier. I accidentally grabbed Scar’s phone instead of mine. You know how we have the exact same phone. I was so focused on studying last night that I forgot it was Friday. I fell asleep before I remembered. I’m sorry if I worried you, but I’m ready to talk now,” I lie. I’ve never lied in my entire life. It doesn’t feel natural, leaving my lips.
“Kinsley, shut up. I don’t believe a word that is coming out of your mouth anyway. I need you to come home to Vegas immediately. I sent a jet to come pick you up,” Granddad says.
“Wait…what? I have finals all next week. I need to be studying.” I move my phone from my ear to make sure I saw the number correctly. It’s my father’s, not my grandfather’s, number. Why is my grandfather calling me on Dad’s phone?
“It’s an emergency,” he says grumpily into the phone. “Your father’s dead.”
“What?” I say, not believing his words.
He wouldn’t say that to me over the phone.
“Your father’s dead,” he says, repeating his words. “He had a heart attack, probably due to the fact that his only daughter never called him like she was supposed to. You need to come home for the funeral, and so we can decide…”
I don’t hear the rest. I drop my phone and watch it clank against the hard floor. I slump to the floor. Tears stream down my face as Scarlett, my only friend, rushes to my side and holds my body in her arms.
It can’t be true. It can’t be.
“What happened?” Scarlett keeps asking as she holds me firmly in her arms.
“He’s gone,” I finally say between sobs.
And it’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone out last night, if I had called him, he might still be alive. If I hadn’t gone out last night, I could have had one last conversation with him. I could have heard one last piece of advice. I could have heard one last I love you.
I didn’t though. Now, I’ll never get to hear him say those words to me again. It’s all my fault.