Cozy • An Embry Story

.36

Winnie's POV

Starting your day in a toilet really humbles you.

I'm use to being the one who holds people's hair back, the one who gets aspirin and Gatorade. I've never been the one whose head is halfway in the toilet bowl, dry heaving while the bathroom tile makes my knees ache.

For most of my life I'd wake up before school to sit next to my aunt while she puked up whatever she had the night before. The sound of car doors slamming or loud music in the early mornings were my alarm clocks. I'd be up at whatever's time she got home to make sure she'd remembered to lock the door behind her, to help her get food in her stomach, help with getting her up the stairs or down beside the toilet when she couldn't hold her liquor anymore.

Now here I am at nineteen, face down in the toilet like my aunt.

"There you go," Embry ties my hair into a ponytail behind me, his big hands slow but expertly moving at the nape of my neck. At first, the slight breeze is relieving against my sweaty skin. Then the breeze chills over, a chill bolting right down my spine and then I'm lurching forward with another wave of nausea.

"You'll feel better once you get all of it out of your system." Embry promises in a low murmur, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. Admittedly, he's being much nicer than I had ever been to my aunt during these situations. She'd just apologize and ugly cry between hurls while I ignored her.

"I think..." I slowly lift my head up, taking in a big gulp of clean air. My voice is unfamiliar from the hurling. Sounding hoarse and scratchy as it does low and thick with nausea. "I think it's over."

"How much did you had to drink, Winnie? I thought you had a few sips of Enola's brew." Embry asks, helping me from my crouch to sit down against the far bathroom wall.

"Leah may have dared me to drink a bit more on the hike back down." I admit sheepishly.

"How much did she dare you?" Embry is slow to sit beside me, watching me with careful eyes as if I'll barf again at any moment.

"A few mouthfuls." Through the waves of nausea I force a wobbly grin. "She was so sure I'd puke it up on the trail, but I didn't." I just puked it up later, but I still consider this a win. Though Enola certainly did win as she downed the most, and didn't even stumble once the entire walk back down.

"So shots not sips." Settling down next to me, Embry gingerly drops his arm around my shoulders, trying to be as gentle with me as possible as if any motion will make me nauseous. To signal I'm feeling better, I lean into him. My head dropping onto his shoulder and letting him support all my weight. He answers with a squeeze of my arm, pulling me in closer. "That's like Leah to start a drinking game even when she can't drink."

"Do you miss drinking?" When Embry Changed, he was just like any other high schooler. He was just starting to learn how to drink from stolen sips of our parents' beer or whatever someone else could sneak to party before he shifted. While he'll never experience a hangover like me, he'll miss out on that part of being an adult for the rest of his life. "It must suck so much that you shifted before turning 21."

"At first, yeah I was pretty annoyed," Embry shrugs off while he thinks about it. "But until ten minutes ago I'm not. you're making the no-alcohol thing look pretty good right now."

"You're not missing much. It tastes like ass anyway." I assure him which earns me a grin. I curse so far and in between, when I do swear Embry always finds it hilarious. "Sorry for waking you up with this."