Chapter Twenty-Four
From the texts of Amanda Esposito
and Diana Daniels
Diana: Amanda? Where are you?
Please tell me you’re downstairs having breakfast with my brother and Laura, even though your car isn’t in the driveway…
Five minutes later…
Diana: Amanda, please text me. I’m worried, but incapable of going to look for you because I have the worst hangover headache in the entire world.
This is why pot is so much better than booze.
Pot never makes me feel like my brain is being sliced and diced by a rusty blender installed at the base of my skull.
Also, my neck is probably broken.
Or at least it feels broken.
What did we do last night that could have resulted in a broken neck? I confess, it’s all fuzzy after we decided 80s night was a good idea.
Please text me. ASAP.
Ten minutes later…
Diana: Dude, where are you? I dragged my pitiful, poisoned body downstairs to the kitchen, but you weren’t there.
Nor are you anywhere else in the house, and no one saw your car pull out this morning, which I assume means you never came home. Did you go home with that hot guy you were staying to flirt with at the club?!
Was it fun?
Are you still asleep because you had so much fun?
I hope you are just asleep somewhere, snoozing off the fun…
Six minutes later…
Diana: OMG WHERE ARE YOU? Text me!
If you decided your trip to Portland wouldn’t be complete without a one-night stand with a sexy stranger, you know I’m not going to judge. I just need to be sure Stranger hasn’t chopped you into little pieces and buried you in his backyard.
Please call me.
Or text if you can’t call.
I need to know you’re okay.
Three minutes later…
Diana: If I don’t hear from you by ten a.m., I’m calling the police.
I would rather freak out and realize later that there was no need to lose my shit than wait too long and regret it for the rest of my life.
If you end up getting hurt because you drove up here to cheer me up, I’m never going to forgive myself, Amanda.
I’m so sorry.
I never should have left you there alone.
I should have insisted you get in the cab with me, no matter how much the world was spinning.
Amanda: Shh, quiet…
Everything’s okay.
Just hush for a second, all right?
Diana: You’re okay! Thank God!
What do you mean hush for a second?
Amanda: Too much dinging…
I’m trying to sneak out of this house without getting caught, but you’re making so much noise with the dinging. And more dinging. Ding, ding, ding.
Diana: Dude. Turn your phone to silent.
Voila, no more dinging.
Amanda: Shit. Yeah.
Okay. It’s off.
Diana: Are you still drunk?
Amanda: No! Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t think so.
I think I’m just exhausted. I only slept an hour, maybe two at most.
Diana: Because you were up all night banging your sexy stranger?
Amanda: God… I’m so mortified…
Diana: Don’t be! There’s nothing wrong with two consenting adults having a good time. I assume he showed you a good time and wasn’t a selfish jerk who wouldn’t go down on you.
Amanda: You know I don’t like to talk gritty details.
Diana: But you will, as soon as you get back here and I can ply you with caffeine and sugar until you crack under my enhanced interrogation techniques.
Amanda: I won’t crack. Not this time.
Diana: That’s what they all say…
*warms up chocolate croissants*
*makes French press coffee that smells so good it will give your nose an orgasm to rival all the orgasms Sexy Stranger gave you last night*
Amanda: I can only remember about half the night, Diana.
And even that is kind of fuzzy. I was way more wasted than I thought. If I didn’t know better, I would swear someone had put something in my drink.
Diana: I think those margaritas were just really, REALLY strong.
I haven’t been this hungover since I was in college, and I only had two of them and one beer. I’m sorry you can’t remember if you had fun or not.
*sad face emoji*
And I’m sorry I abandoned you when you were in need of a keeper. I feel terrible.
Amanda: It’s not your fault. You were worse off than I was, and I’m the one who forced you into a cab and ran back into the club.
And I don’t regret Sexy Stranger…
What I can recall of my time with him was…most enjoyable.
Diana: So he went down on you?
Amanda: For hours.
Like an Olympic champion of cunnilingus.
Diana: Hell yeah, Sexy Stranger!
Amanda: I think he may actually be an Olympic athlete. I have vague memories of discussing something sports-related, and he has a hint of a Russian accent that’s sexy as math.
Diana: Not my first choice of sexy things, but whatever floats your boat, girl.
Amanda: He floated it. No doubt about that.
Even with a hangover, I feel better this morning than I have in a long time.
Just relaxed and happy and hopeful about a future with no Wonderdick in it.
Diana: Awesome! I’m so happy for you!
And I knew I would get the sex scoop sooner or later…
*devil emoji*
Amanda: Fine. You’re right. I always crack under pressure.
But I still want coffee and pastries when I get there.
Diana: Are you going to see him again?
Give him a chance to rock your world while you’re sober?
Amanda: Of course not! Are you crazy?
I’m sneaking out while he’s still passed out cold, as the good Lord intended.
Diana: I know I’m a godless heathen, but I feel like I would know if “Thou shalt slink away in quiet shame post one-night stand” were actual scripture.
Amanda: It might as well be. There’s no way this guy and I are going to have anything in common in real life. He’s crazy athletic, dangerously gorgeous, and his house is big enough to fit ten of my apartment inside it and still have room left over. Not to mention that his driveway is so long I’m starting to have flashbacks to that time you made me hike for miles and miles into the woods with no food or water.
Diana: It was a mile-long trail, mostly flat.
A baby trail that never hurt anyone in its life.
Amanda: It hurt me. It made me very thirsty.
Oh, there’s my car! Thank God. He said he was going to have someone pick it up and bring it here, but I wasn’t sure if that promise ever became a legit plan.
Diana: So he’s gorgeous, athletic, wealthy, thoughtful, and a person who keeps promises, even after having had a few too many, but you’re still running out of there as fast as your hung-over legs can carry you? Please tell me you at least got his number so you can call him when you come to your senses.
Amanda: No. I don’t have his, he doesn’t have mine, and that’s the way I like it.
I enjoyed the fireworks, but now it’s morning and I have a friend to finish cheering up. Be there in fifteen, okay?
Diana: Okay. But at least write down his address? Pretty please?
You never know when you might change your mind…
Amanda: Does this mean you’ve changed yours?
Diana: My head hurts too much to make serious decisions right now.
But I’ve been thinking a lot about our talk.
And thinking you might have made some solid points…
Amanda: OMG, he has a Russian nesting doll for a mailbox.
Diana: Really? That’s pretty adorable…
Amanda: It really is.
Diana: Are you writing down his address?
Amanda: No, I’m driving. Good-bye.
Diana: *crying face* *loudly crying face* *cat crying face*
Amanda: Your drama won’t work here, woman.
I’ve made my call. Now it’s time to make yours.