Painful Reminders

Chapter Sixteen: Drunken Decisions

"Uno!" I stepped through the door just in time to hear Amya's triumphant cry and watch Zeke toss a handful of cards down onto the ground with a scowl while his sister laughed.

"It's a stupid game," Zeke replied, leaning back in his chair.

"Zeke's never been the best at card games," Andrea said, still laughing.

Clearing my throat, all three heads turned to me. "Enjoying yourselves?"

Zeke and Andrea immediately sobered, beginning to gather up their card game, and Amya's gaze turned from amusement to irritation. "We're trying."

"I was just keeping her company, as you requested," Andrea said, standing from the table. "Now that you're back, I'll just be heading back to my room."

"Me too," Zeke added, following closely behind his sister as they made a beeline for the door.

I turned my attention to Amya who had turned her attention to her phone as soon as the other two left. "They have jobs to do. Don't distract them."

Ignoring me and frowning down at her mobile, she squinted her eyes, typing furiously. Bringing it closer to her face, she huffed and held it out to me impatiently. "Help."

Coming closer, I caught a whiff of the whiskey on her breath and studied her more closely. Her eyes shone brightly and her cheeks were red, not from the excitement of the game, but the heat of the alcohol buzzing through her veins. "Are you drunk?"

She offered a single nod, shaking her phone at me. Pulling it from her grasp, I looked down at the screen. Shane's name was displayed at the top along with a string of messages, asking her to call him. At the bottom sat her reply, currently unsent. 'Stip mdssaging me.'

"Who gave you alcohol?"

"Stole yours," she replied with a smile, pulling my now half-empty two-hundred-year-old bottle of whiskey from behind her in the chair. "Good taste."

Taking it from her and setting it on the table, I pulled her to her feet. For once, she offered no complaint, leaning into me as she stood. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"That's no different than any other morning." Lifting her head to smile up at me, she crooked a finger at me and whispered, "Wanna know a secret?"

Guiding her toward the bedroom, I bent my head indulgently toward her. "What?"

She giggled, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing herself more firmly into my side. "I don't hate you as much as I want to. Actually..." she trailed off and stopped moving as she considered before smiling back up at me. "I don't think I hate you at all. Which is why I hate you so much."

"That's redundant."

She laughed, "I wanna throw up."

Nearly an hour later, Amya was freshly showered and dressed in a clean pair of pajamas, crawling into bed. She looked up at me expectantly, grabbing my hand before I could step away. "The sun's up, aren't you going to bed?"

"Later."

She tugged once, offering a sleepy smile. "I won't like you again when I'm sober. Stay with me while I'm drunk."

"I don't think so."

"Because you don't like me?"

"Yes." No.