Tijuana Burger Girl (A disturbing novel you shouldn't read)

Chapter 1: Trouble In Tijuana

Content Warning!

Tijuana Burger Girl is a splatterpunk character study centered around a 21-year-old with bipolar-induced impulse control issues who becomes a sexual deviant with a death wish after being bullied online and in person. As such, this story [intended for adults] will contain: graphic descriptions of spicy/carnal adult activities and disturbing intimate scenes meant to gross out readers. Due to the elements of mental health explored in this story, topics such as suicide, eating disorders, and mental illnesses such as bipolar disorder will be addressed. If disturbing/gross reads make you squeamish, please avoid this book at all costs!

If you want to read the full novel, it's currently available on Amazon!

The Last Sunday of March

"Alicia," Bailey says somewhat sternly from behind me just as I'm tilting the margarita pitcher away from my practically overflowing cup.

"Hm?" I hum, setting the half-empty container down on the kitchen counter and glancing over my shoulder at the insanely gorgeous blonde who's strolling over to me from the balcony.

She stares at my glass before meeting my gaze with those judgy blue eyes of hers, then she raises her brows, giving me the most unamused look. "Girl, it's barely eleven a.m. and you're already on your second drink..."

I snicker on my way to the couch. "And... your point? It's Sunday Funday, and we came to Tijuana with the intent of having another one of our famously wild weekends, remember?" I smirk at her.

"Yeah, but we're heading back home this afternoon... Do you really wanna be drunk while we drive across the border? Border patrol might think you're on something else and search the car or cavity search you or some shit."

"Chillax, Buzzkill Bailey. I don't plan on being wasted by the time we leave." I bring the cup to my lips and guzzle a mouthful, holding her gaze and smirking as I do.

"Okay..." she mutters, shaking her head. "Well, just in case you do get wasted, you might wanna take care of whatever molly's left, if you haven't already. The last thing we need is to cross the border with drugs in your purse."

My eyes widen and I gulp hard as I lower the cup from my mouth. "Crap!" I slam the glass on the coffee table harder than intended. "I knew I forgot something! Thanks for reminding me!" My words rattle off at a mile a minute.

"Mm-hm! How many pills do we have left anyway? There's probably not enough left to bother bringing back, right?"

Well... I took one both days, I think, looking up to the left while tapping my finger against my lips as I try recalling which of the four girls took MDMA two days in a row with me and which of them only rolled last night. "Maybe two left? Possibly three?"

"Oh... That many? I feel like there should be, like, one left considering me, you, and Payton took one last weekend too."

"You might be right..."

"Either way, even if there're three left, it might be safer just to flush 'em. You know how it is going back into the US..."

"Nah, don't worry," I say, heading toward the master bedroom that I've been sharing with Payton. "I'll just tuck 'em away so we don't have to buy more for the concert next weekend."

"I don't know..."

"Even if they randomly search the car, they won't have a reason to cavity search the ole flesh pocket without a probable cause!" I flash my cringing friend a wicked grin before shutting the door behind me.