In The Alpha's Bedroom

Shit Happens

The room is filled with laughter, more at all the senarios of shit happening than anything else. Then again everything is funny as all hell when you're one bottle of tequila down between four people.

"Locked out of your house while naked." Calls Aunt Bridgette after picking the next card from the deck in the middle of the table.

Nebula and I both scream with laughter.

"There is no way I want to be caught in that scenario." I wail out.

"It would be better than a root canal." Interjects Uncle Brent.

"That's because you have nothing to hide Dear." Aunt Bridgette teases her husband, placing a hand on his shoulder while holding her stomach with her laughs.

Uncle Brent glares at his wife with drunken disbelief at her attack on his below the belt ego and is quick to jump to his own defense. "I'll have you know, I'm well equipped. Thank you. You of all people should know. You complain enough that there's not enough room in the bed for all three of us."

With that, Nebula howls out and as she does her chair tilts backwards more than her tequila balance can handle and the chair topples over.

Nebula squeals as her chair takes her hurtling towards the ground and my eyes pop out of their sockets.

Both Uncle Brent and Aunt Bridgette stand up laughing loudly and lean over the table to check on their little girl.

"Pumpkin!" Uncle Brent calls out just as his eyes reach the fallen chair.

His eyes shift to me.

Shit.
Shit.
Shit.

What do I do? What do I do? My brain goes into over drive but seems to be going nowhere fast except down a rabbit hole, only this rabbit hole has no magic eat me cakes to make me smaller at the end of it.

Do I need to act shocked like 'oh no, what just happened, where did Nebs go? or do I sit back up and brush this scenraio off as a regular occurance and be like 'don't worry, she'll be back soon after someone on the other side gives her a fright?

Shit!

Nebula! Did you have to go poof right now? I internally scream at my friend holding back on an eye roll as my brain hasn't decided on what reaction to have for her parents sake.

"Page..." I hear Aunt Bridgette draw out my name.

I am in some deep ass shit.

Nebs! Couldn't you have taken me with you at least...

I, with a movement, so pain stakingly slow, I need to stall as much as possible right now so that my brains can come up with something, raise my head and look at Mr. and Mrs. Shaw.

Who are seated again and looking at me very very calmly. Well, that's enough calmness to trigger a horror movie response but what does my liquored brain do?

A toothy grin appears on my face as I drag out an elongated, "Yes?"

Trying to look even remotely innocent for me has never worked out in my favor. Ever!

It was Aunt Bridgette who broke their calmness by raising one of her eyebrows, really high.

Shit.
Shit.
Shit.

"Where is our daughter?" She asks smoothly with no hitch, no raise of tention, if fact the question came out with as much calmness as her face had held before the eyebrow raise.

Well, fuck. I guess it's a bit too late to play dumb now, huh? Or is it? I'm sure this shit is written all over my face like a clown wearing face paint.