Almost Easy

Waking Up In Vegas

One more for today! xoxox N

Zoey’s POV

I groaned as I rolled over in the bed. My head throbbed, my mouth was as dry as a desert and I felt like I was going to throw up. As I curled my knees into a ball, I brushed against Lee’s side. His skin was warm and— Nooooooo! I popped open the eye that wasn’t buried in my pillow. A cruel blade of afternoon sunlight seeped through the curtains and picked out my lacy white bra lying on the bedroom carpet. One of last night’s boots peeped out from beneath a pair of men’s jeans. Please, oh, please, let those jeans belong to that sweet boy. I buried my face in the pillow. What if they didn’t? What if they belonged to— They couldn’t. The college boy…Mark—his name was Mark… We’d flirted up on the dance floor. It had felt so good to flirt. So what if he was a younger man? Okay, I was naked, and that was awkward. But now Lee was no longer the last man I’d slept with, and that was a sign of progress, right? My stomach rumbled unpleasantly as I peeled my eye open again. I’d suffered through a few hangovers, but nothing like this. Nothing that had ever wiped out most of my memory.  But no matter how hard I concentrated, the last thing I remembered clearly was Brian handing me a drink.  We had all wound up at the MGM Grand Casino where I met the college boy.  We danced and laughed and then he grabbed me by my hand; we came back here where we’d talked till dawn. He’d made me laugh and told me I had more strength than any woman he knew. He’d said I was intelligent, talented, and a lot prettier than I gave myself credit for. He’d said that Lee had made himself look like an idiot walking out on a woman like me. It was the best drunken night I could remember, sort of. I took a deep breath. I needed water. And Tylenol. Or Vicodin, I couldn’t decide which would be more effective. It began to dawn on me that liquor didn’t give a person total amnesia. This was no ordinary hangover. It was like I had been drugged. I hid my face under my pillow.  My bedmate groaned and rolled over. I was afraid to peek out not ready to face the consequences of the evening.  I felt the bed sink a bit as he got up. I listened carefully as I heard him open the door to the bathroom. When I heard the sound of the lock, I reached around for the sheet and sat up. The room began to spin immediately. I had to put a hand down beside me to steady myself. I wrapped the sheet around me and managed to get myself to the second bathroom, where I leaned against the sink and buried my face in my hands. 

As I let my hands drop, my reflection scared the hell out of me, like early 90’s Courtney Love. My short hair was pointing in every direction. I lifted my hand to touch the beard burn that was apparent on my neck. Blotches of old mascara smudged my green eyes like mud around an algae pond. I grabbed a glass from the counter, filled it water and downed it quickly.  I washed my face and swirled some hotel mouth wash. I sat on the cool marble tub deck, wondering how I was going face whoever was lurking outside that. I wanted to call someone, but Lana was unreachable, and I wasn’t up to confessing my transgression to Hilary, who would marvel at the trouble I always seemed to get myself in. I could call Gena but Zacky might answer and he might get really really pissed. I got up and tightened the sheet under my arms. The living area was empty, but my hopes that he’d left faded when I saw his clothes mingled with mine still on the floor. I shuffled across the carpet and out into the bed room. He stood at the windows with his back to me. He was tall, black hair, tattoos, my every dream come true and every nightmare in one package.

“What a fucking nightmare,” I blurted.

 “Don’t start. Not a single word out of your mouth,” he said without turning. “I mean it, Zoey. I can’t deal with you right now. Unless you have a cigarette.” 

Rage swept through me. I snatched up a couch pillow and hurled it at him.“You drugged me, you fuck face,” I yelled.

He ducked, and the pillow hit the window. I tried to go after him, but as he turned, I tripped over the bed sheet, and it slipped to my waist. 
“Put those away,” he said. “They’ve already gotten us into enough trouble.” I had better luck connecting with one of his abandoned boots.
 “Ow!” He rubbed his chest and had the nerve to look outraged. “I didn’t drug you! Believe me, if I was going to drug a woman, it wouldn’t be you.” I tugged the sheet into my armpits and looked around for something else to throw. “You’re lying. I was drugged.”
 “Yeah, you were. We both were. But not by me. By Meribel, Marilyn, Mary- somebody.”
 “Who are you talking about?” 
“The redhead at the casino last night. The one that was trying to get into my pants. She bought those drinks. Remember? I took one and gave you the other—the one she made for herself.”