Illegal My Ass

Chapter 10- 'And by it, I mean my metaphorical penis.'

You know that moment where you realise the situation is serious and you need to get your serious mask on, but you have had one too many glasses of the evil stuff and even standing up seems challenging let alone paying attention to someone who’s trying to have a serious conversation with you?

Well, yeah that was happening right now.

Garry led me to the other end of the kitchen. Literally led me there as I almost walked out of the door due to my vision not being quite up to scratch.

Example of that, the room seemed to be spinning around me like a merry go round.

I leaned back against the counter as I realised my legs were losing the good fight, and just looked up at Garry with a sloppy smile, suddenly finding him the cutest little bear of the pack.

I could feel Drake’s eyes on us, and I really wanted to glare at him but I was concentrating on not giggling at the fact Garry was giving me this intense stare.

Let him spy like a creepy stalker.

“So, what did you want to chat about Beaver?” I asked him.

He furrowed his brows in confusion and amusement “Beaver?”

“That was my pet name for you when we were going out.”

“You’ve never once called me that.”

“Well I should have. Isn't that what couples do? Make up sickly nicknames for each other while others around them try and hold down vomit?” I suddenly swayed on my feet and took a deep breath “Speaking of vomit…”

Garry’s eyes widened in worry “Are you about to take a trip to Vomit Ville?”

I put a fist to my mouth, swallowed hard and hiccupped. “Nah I'm good.”

He chuckled slightly, looking really relieved. He could never stand vomit from what I could remember. Maybe I should puke actually…

“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while…” He looked around the room at the crowds of people around us and looked a little annoyed “…I was planning on doing it a place a little more private but the ass pirate over there sort of put a damper on that plan.”

I giggle, muttering “Ass pirate” under my breath. I needed to use that one.

“He sort of has to keep an eye on me. That’s his unofficial unpaid job given to him by my brother.” I explained.

He scoffed “Yeah, that’s why he’s doing it…”

I scrunched my face, a little over the top due to all my actions being controlled by tequila, and looked at him confused by his remark. But on a sober day I have the attention span of a plank of wood, so you can imagine how much I didn’t really care now after a few seconds.

“Did you know Kangaroos have 3 vaginas?” I asked him. Apparently that remark didn’t bother me because I had more pressing things on my mind.

He stared at me for a while like I was a Martian, before shaking his head as if knocking him out of the trance.

“Fascinating. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about us.”

“As in me and you or the country?”

“Me and you.” He cleared up.

I nodded seriously “Good because my knowledge of geography is pretty useless without a a GPS system.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. I think he was losing his patience.

“I really should have picked a time to talk to you where you weren’t tanked up like a gas station.”