Jema

17. Repercussions

a/n: happy easter, loves

TW: this chapter contains a character making unwanted sexual advances toward another character (not r*pe!)

Thank you for reading <3

*

I've never been so hungover.

The last thing I remember is Lucas getting an urgent call to go home, and DeVante refusing to drive, so they called Uber.

I fell asleep with my glasses on, and I'm almost positive they're going to be permanently crooked. Nicky is curled in a ball beside me, facing the wall. He had to puke last night—I think—and then he was the first one asleep.

My drunk self really started creeper-staring at Dev and Lucas while they made out, and that's when I realized I'm really thirsty.

Nicky sits up suddenly. It's only around 10:00, which I'm surprised by, but I'm definitely taking a shower as soon as possible. "What the fu—who hit me with a brick?" Nicky groans. I just laugh. "My head is pulsing and it won't stop."

"I call the shower," I say, rolling off his bed and lazily combing my fingers through my hair.

Nicky gives me a confused look. "Sure. I'll just take the other shower." Oh, I forgot. He has four bathrooms in this house. Three of them have full bath and shower. Duh. "Okay, so I, like, lowkey was hoping just Lucas would leave and Dev would stay. But I'm glad we got to drunk talk."

"Sure," I mumble.

"Which I'm assuming you don't remember," Nicky says, rubbing at his eyes. I sigh. Probably not. "You said you wanted your ears pierced after I told you I was getting laser eye surgery." I snap my head toward him. "Yeah. And we pinky swore on it. Which means you have to do it."

I only remember thinking about piercing my ears a few times. My subconscious wants it, obviously. "What did I say?"

"You said 'I'm going to pierce my ears like the gay child I am'," Nicky says. "And then you talked about the weird porn you've watched."

I stand up, shaking my head. "Well, never drinking again," I conclude. Nicky just laughs at me.

2:31 p.m.

Mom: Hey baby! Hope you're having a good time, call me if you need anything. Rowe is going to lose his fourth tooth soon, but he's waiting for you to come home. Call us tonight please. Love you. Please call Dennis.

Jema: Okay. Having lots of Fun and going to eat soon. I know dennis is mad at me. Love u too.

"I love pasta. So much," Nicky says while he forks down some Japanese noodles. "I want to die from too much pasta."

I correct him: "Well, you don't want to—"

"Not die, you know," Nicky says with an eyeroll. "I mean, if I had to die by food, I'd want it to be pasta. Or ice cream."

I scoff. "You can actually die from ice cream." Nicky gives another exaggerated eyeroll, followed by him flicking his crumpled napkin my way. "Did I share anything else while I was trashed?" I ask. Nicky nods, turning red, but not answering me. "What was it?"

"It was about that shitty thing that happened when you were little." Nicky's voice is soft and caring. I suppose he gets drunk often enough that he remembers things. "You cried a little. Then we danced to some old Mariah Carey and you forgot."

I smile a little. Nicky may come off as troubled and immature, but he really knows me.

I saved the dumplings in my soup for last, and I pop each one in my mouth happily. The music at the restaurant reminds me of when I visited Corey at his job in the gas station. But it's friendlier here. Everything seems nicer in this place, but it still has its problems.