LANA MASON
Last Night
"Oh my God, no, I can't do another," I laughed and shook my head. "I am so fucking drunk."
"You're fucking drunk?" Carter scoffed. "You've only had three shots! I've had six!"
"Six?!" I shrieked. "You're a fucking psychopath, holy shit."
"Hey, so why didn't Harry come with you?" He chuckled and nudged me with his elbow.
The question almost sobered me up. Maybe it would have if I hadn't drunk so much already. "Oh, um...I-he just had a really long night at the restaurant."
"Right," he narrowed his eyes at me. "He hates me."
"What?!" I had too big of a reaction to that. "No, he doesn't. Why would you say that?"
"Well, why would he like me?" He countered. "I wouldn't if I were him."
"I swear, he was just tired," I lied for whatever reason, though I'm pretty sure Harry wouldn't care if I told the truth, and the truth was that he did not like Carter at all. He didn't tell me that, but I know it's true.
"Alright, well I appreciate you coming," he gave me a side hug. "How are you getting home?"
"That is a super good question," I glanced around the mostly full bar, but it was almost two in the morning and people would be leaving soon. "I'm gonna Uber."
"Good idea," he hiccuped and sipped his water. That was what I should have been doing. "If you're going back to Harry's, we could walk together. I'm ready to go home."
"Oh, that would be good, but I'm gonna go back to my place," I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, which was a terrible idea with the room already spinning the way it was.
"Gotcha," he smiled tightly, watching me try to navigate my phone and get a car to pick me up at the correct location.
Another text message from Harry popped up at the top of the screen, but I felt like it was in the way so I swiped it away and continued checking out on my app. I saw the notification that the driver was two minutes away, so I decided to put my coat on and get ready to go outside.
"Happy Birthday, Carter," I reached up to hug him. "Let's get another drink sometime or something."
"Yeah, for sure," he patted my back. "Get home safe."
"You too!" I yelled above the music and stumbled my way toward the door, cursing myself for wearing heeled boots and not flat ones.
Just as I pushed through the door to find the car, doing my best to sober up and match the license plate with what was on my phone, Harry started calling me. I answered on the way to the parked RAV4, but I spoke to the Uber driver first.
"For who?" I asked.
"Lana?" He said.
"Yup," I climbed into the backseat and accidentally slammed the door before scrambling for my seatbelt.
"Lana? Hello?"
"Oh, fuck," I picked my phone up from the middle seat and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Jesus Christ, Lana," he sounded absolutely pissed. "Why the fuck have you not been answering your phone? It's been three fucking hours."
"You knew where I was," I closed my eyes and rested my head on the seat. "And I was having fun. I didn't want to fight with you."
