The Whore & The Virgin

Chapter 5

L: Ello Ello again! Update because azalaya is lazy and I love you all!
Pic is of Logan (aka Tall Blonde and Handsome)
Song for this Chapter-- Life's a Show from Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Once More With Feeling
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Buffy

A knock on the door interrupts my...ahem, well anyway, I sit upright, leaving Logan stranded on the bed when the knocks become more forceful. I cover myself with a blanket and crack it open. Angel stands there, his mouth set in a grim line. I immediately deduce that he's nervous from a recent encounter. The smell of alcohol on him confirms my suspicions.

"What did Liana do this time?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

He tells me that she's gotten herself drunk and I smack him on the back of the head for giving her a drink in the first place.

"I only gave her one to sip on so she wouldn't seem so rigid. Poor thing looked like a statue."

"Understandable. She's a..uh, hm, well she's different. Special. Not a social being, that one. How drunk is she? You said you only gave her one?" I ask, shushing Logan as he whines for me to come back.

Angel peeks over my shoulder and steps further away from the door.

"I just wanted to alert you of the dilemma," Angel sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and flipping his gay looking hair.

"Is she okay? What is she doing? Did you leave her down there?" I bombard him with questions, much as a doting mother would.

"I left her standing by the wall, by a chair and a plant. She seems fine, but she's acting a little weird. I don't think she understands what's happening."

Logan groans for me again and I roll my eyes, obviously agitated now. "Honey I can get you off any day of the week. I'm dealing with a bigger problem: my friend is a light weight."

I turn back to Angel, pulling the blanket tighter around me as it starts to slip. My voice lowers to a whisper as Logan sits up, trying to see who's at the door. "You know she can't handle that many people! And the music, oh god... She'll drown down there. Give me five minutes."

I shut the door in his face and pull on my clothes, arguing with a disgruntled Logan. Oh, she so owes me.

I follow Angel downstairs where a discombobulated Liana is swaying, rocking unsteadily on her heels. I click my tongue at her, fisting my hips on my hips. Honestly, I'm pissed. I was finally getting some! And now this bitch. Mmhm, no.

"What did I tell you?" I lecture. "Never take a drink from anyone."

  She whips her head around, looking ready to tell me off. The moment she opens her mouth, though, she doubles over, vomiting into a ficus. That poor, poor plant.

  "Oh L... You didn't even smile," I say, my voice gone soft. How could I be mad when my best friend is puking into a fern? And she looks so funny when she's drunk. Aww..she's staring off into space, how cute.

  But still, she didn't listen to a word I said! "You drank when I specifically said not to. You aren't standing I told you too. You definitely didn't smile like I told you to. I literally said it like five times! I stressed it as the most important thing! But do you listen? Noooo, of course not. You're too good for old Buffy's advice."

  By now Angel has returned with my car keys. I thank him, apologizing for Liana's inappropriate behavior.

  "She usually isn't like this. It's her first party," I explain, lifting her onto my back. She wraps her arms around my neck as I grab hold of her legs. Her putrid breath wades to my nose and I gag.

  "It's okay, that's understandable. In all honesty it wasn't that bad; she's kind of cute when she's drunk," he smiles toothily.

  I grin wickedly as a lightbulb goes off over my head. "She's even cuter when she's sober. Scouts honor." I hold up my hand in a sworn oath.

  I pull out my emergency sharpie from its hideaway in my boot and pop the cap. Scribbling her number in loopy numbers on his arm, I suggest he call her tomorrow at noon when she's sobered up.

  "HEY BABY, YOU SHOULD COME WRITE YOUR NUMBER ON DEEZ NUTZ!!" Someone yells from the crowd.

  I sigh and roll my eyes. Guys are idiots. "C'mon L, this party is lame. It's about time we blow this Popsicle stand."

  "IVE GOT SOMETHING YOU CAN BLOW!!"

  I flip the guy off and carry Liana on piggyback out to my car, buckling her into the passenger seat.

  "You owe me big time," I mutter as I put the top down, praying that the wind and fresh air will sober her up and keep her from up chucking in my car. I just had her cleaned...

  I drive back to my place, sneaking her easily into my room. The dogs thankfully ignore me as I lay her out on my bed with only minor struggling. Hopefully I won't have to wait on her hand and foot when she wakes up...

_________________

  I come in from my morning jog, shower, and make lunch, all before noon. Liana is still sleeping, but I don't have the heart to wake her after the night she's had....

  Just kidding!

  I grab the megaphone that my mom got to keep after she dumped this cop that she dated. Stepping into my room, I blare the siren.

  "LIANA BRIDGES MYERS! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!"

  She freaks the fuck out, flailing around under the sheets (which I'm sure smell like puke now..)

  She groans, sliding up into a sitting position. "My head hurts..."

  "I'm sure it does. Take this." I place two advils on her palm. She washes them down quickly and yawns.

  "Why do I feel like death? And what happened last night?"

  Before I can tell her how badly she embarrassed herself, her phone rings. She jumps, staring down at the unknown number.

  "What the-"

  I glance down at my fitbit display. 12 o'clock on the dot.

  Somebody's an eager beaver.

  I wink at her, giving her my trademark smirk. "You're welcome. Oh and you SO owe me."