Fiona
SHAY WAS HANDING ME ANOTHER cup of coffee as my stomach roiled in protest. The earlier high I had been feeling was now gone. The nausea was taking over and this coffee wasn’t helping. Concentrating to avoid eye contact with Marty and his date was keeping me distracted enough that I hadn’t thought too much about my need to vomit. Even their presence was starting not to matter.
“Drink it,” Shay ordered and I shook my head. “Fiona you need to sober up,” she urged.
“I need to vomit,” I replied then stood up and hurried toward the entrance where I had noticed the restroom sign earlier. This was not the way I had imagined tonight going. I had wanted to appear aloof and carefree. As if Marty was no longer an issue for me. As if he didn’t still make my heart race when he was near me. Instead, I was racing to a toilet to throw up.
Not to mention, this was Shay’s weekend and I was acting like a selfish bitch. Disgusted with myself and the saliva pooling in my mouth, I pushed through the door clearly marked Women before falling to my knees and humiliating myself further by ridding my stomach of its contents. At least I’d gotten to a toilet in time.
My forehead broke out in a cold sweat by the time I was finished. I took some toilet paper and wiped my mouth before standing and flushing my embarrassment away. With a sigh, I went to look at myself in the mirror and assess the damage. I was pale. An improvement because I was no longer green. I was sure I had been earlier. I’d felt green at least.
Even my lips were pale. The lipstick I’d applied with care was now gone. The gleam of sweat on my forehead was less than flattering. I should go to my room, sleep, and try this again tomorrow. While staying away from alcohol. Shay would probably be relieved if I left.
The door opened and I glanced up in the mirror to see Chantel entering behind me. Her eyes still glassy. She could hold her drink better than anyone I knew. “You okay?” she asked.
I grimaced and then shrugged. No, I wasn’t okay. I would be. But right now, I was far from okay. I was the hot mess everyone assumed I was. The girl who had deserted this place. I was still that unstable girl with daddy issues. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be he girl who had made a name for herself in New York.
“I should have stopped a bottle of champagne ago,” I replied honestly.
She looked as apologetic as a drunk girl could I guess. “It was fun in the beginning though. The table dancing was memorable.”
I managed a laugh. “Let’s hope Shay agrees when we’re sober in the morning.”
Chantel waved her hand and stumbled a bit. “Shay knew what she was getting into inviting us all to this shindig. Can’t just change the past and hope for the best. The past is there, she knows that. And he showed up with the redheaded sex-on-a-stick goddess. Jesus, I hate him for you.”
Sober Chantel would never admit any of that. Drunk she had loose lips. I wasn’t sure I was still drunk enough to hear it all. “We all moved on. I never imagined Marty not to have a beautiful woman on his arm.” Which was true.
“Not sure how moved on he is,” Chantel muttered.
I didn’t want to talk about Marty. Or the redhead.
“I’m trying to decide if Shay would rather me go to my room and be on excellent behavior the rest of the weekend. Or go back in there . . . and try to finish the night without embarrassing her.”
Chantel grinned. It was her drunk grin and I wondered why I was asking her anything. She was in worse shape than me. I’d sobered a bit after vomiting. “She was prepared for this. She had to be. Go back in there and enjoy your evening.”
Enjoy was a bit of a reach. But I could return and be pleasant. Get through it. “I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t care about the stupid seating assignments. I can come sit with you if you want. We can make fun of the redhead together.”
That was a bad idea. That wasn’t going to help things at all. “No, that’s okay. Thanks though. I need to fix this the best I can.”
Turning on the water, I slowly washed my hands, procrastinating with every drawn out second. Finally, I dried my hands and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could. “Wish me luck,” I said with a smirk. Chantel opened the door for me.
“Luck,” she repeated.
“Thanks. For coming to check on me,” I told her before walking back outside into the courtyard.
“It’s what we do. Friends.” She reminded me.
“Yeah, friends,” I agreed.
One more calming breath then I headed back to where I had run from. Each step feeling as if my feet were suddenly made of bricks. Proving difficult to look as sophisticated as I wanted to appear after my race out of here. I knew Chantel was behind me and that helped somewhat.
I didn’t feel as alone. Although I knew everyone was trying to look like they were watching Chantel walk by. She hadn’t made a scene by breaking into a sprint after announcing she needed to vomit. Holding my head high I made eye contact with Shay who appeared concerned. I did my best to apologize through my gaze. I’d properly apologize later. Right now, I wanted to get through this crisis.
Taking my seat, I saw the first course had arrived. I wasn’t sure what the salad type thing on thin cracker bread pieces was, but I lifted it carefully and took a bite needing something on my stomach.
“You sure you can eat that so soon?” Marty asked. His tone was amused and it annoyed me. He had a reason to be amused.
I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze. “Thanks so much for your concern but I think I’ll manage fine.” My tone was as sweet and polite as I could make it. I smiled just as sweetly at the redhead before focusing on my plate and the food I didn’t want to eat. I knew I should try.
“I ordered you water,” Shay said moving the glass toward me with a nudge as if I was five years old.
“Thanks,” I replied not able to give her a fake smile because she’d call me out on it.
“Unless you want more champagne of course,” Mack added. I shot an annoyed glare at my soon to be brother-in-law and rolled my eyes.
He chuckled and I relaxed a bit. This dinner would be over soon and I’d escape. I just needed to keep smiling.