*BRIEFS* (ON HOLD)

CHAPTER 6

I see Zach, and go to wave, but he completely blanks me, and walks over to Hettie.

I have to admit, this worries me a little, makes me think whether Sam seeing us ruined our chances or not.

He whispers something in her ear, which makes her smile, then takes her hand and leads her away. Ginny sees my face.

"Leave them, it's not like you actually did anything with him, harmless flirting, all of you." she tells me.

"Yeah.. harmless flirting."

So I forget about them and continue to dance the night away, to all sorts of music.

At eleven o'clock, the party ends, so we all leave the leisure centre and begin to go home. But as we reach the car park, we notice Hettie is still missing.

"Hettie!" We all shout, looking for her. Eventually, Ellenor finds her, fast asleep on the grass behind a bush, with a bottle of neat vodka, and she's not alone.

"Hettie? Zach?" The four of us crowd around them, trying to see if they're ok. Within a minute, Hettie is awake.

"Oh, hey guys, wondered where you were!" She says, hiccuping. I roll my eyes. She goes to stand up, but because she's drunk, she falls back on Zach, and he wakes up.

"Hello, ladies," he says, but he doesn't sound too drunk.

"What do you think you two are doing?" Gin pipes up. "We've been looking for you for ages!"

"It's just a bit of fun!" Hettie pouts her lips.

In the end we have to carry her to Daisy's, then text her mum saying she's sleeping there.

I get home at just after midnight, and everyone is in bed. I lock the door, get some food, then sneak upstairs to find Noah in my bed. Bless the little toe rag. So I get changed into my pyjamas and shuffle him over to one side of my bed, so I can slide in and drift off into dream world.

"FRANKIEEE!!" Six o'clock. Ugh. My brother is bouncing on my stomach, I feel sick, and I'm angry about last night.

"Don't, Noah, or I'll be sick on you." That stopped him. He gets off me, and instead jumps on my mums bed.

"MUMMYYY!!"

I decide the best thing to do now is get up and have some toast and butter.

I get a text while I'm there from Gin, who must've been woken up by James. He has trumpet practice on a Sunday, at six o'clock. I know. Strange boy.

"Alrite? Feel ill, dnt you? Not goin out today, hw to finish, i know, ugh, cya monday xx"

My reply:

"Hey bbe, yh im up too. slept with noah last night, so he woke me up. wasnt plannin on goin aht tday neways. cya mon xx"

And so, from half past six in the morning until twenty past eight at night, watching six or seven DVDs from my collection of rom-coms. Best. Day. Ever.