The Virgin and the Whore

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I couldn't pinpoint the exact time when I went completely off the rails. I remembered dancing and drinking and I remembered betting with a girl that I could do a handstand for one minute. I remembered making out with that girl and drinking more.

I remembered feeling trapped in my own skin and wanting to be anywhere but there. I remembered thinking about my friends with their perfect girlfriends and their perfect wives and their perfect lives and everything figured out. I remembered thinking how pretty fucking easy it was to judge me when you have it so good.

I remembered drinking and drinking more and smoking and dancing and standing over a toilet ready to puke or die.

I remembered glass breaking and blood spilling and I remembered being so fucking tired of everything.

Waking up was pretty freaking brutal. Opening my eyes was absolutely out of the question. I had no idea where I was and who was with me but it was clear that I wasn't alone because my head was resting on someone's lap, and whoever that was they were stroking my hair.

"Guys! I think he's coming around this time," a voice said over me, a voice I recognized and was pretty freaking grateful for.

I heard footsteps coming our way and I tried to move a little and open my eyes to look at who it was but then I just groaned in pain and buried my head on Vanessa's abdomen, clutching her shirt.

"Easy there, if you're feeling sick, we have a bucket right here," she said softly, still stroking my hair.

"Take it easy Nik, you had a rough night," Tyler suddenly said, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I breathed slowly, trying to make sense of what was going on in my head. After a few minutes I finally sat up on the couch and realized I was back in my penthouse. Also, Vanessa and Tyler weren't the only ones here.

Christ, the whole gang was there. Blake and Lexi, Josh and Daphnee, even Alex and Travis.

"Did my invitation to this little get-together got lost in the mail?" I joked, holding on to both sides of my head to try to stop the pounding.

"The invitation was Chloe texting me at three in the morning telling me that you were passed out on the sidewalk beside your own puke with a gash in your arm," Tyler told me, his eyes stern, his arms crossed. That was totally the look he should use if he ever needed to prove he'd be good father material.

What he had said made me look at my arm though. It was all bandaged up. And now that he had mentioned it, I could feel it throbbing. "What happened to my arm?"

"From what we were able to gather you couldn't walk straight and you made a girl drop bottles. They broke on the ground and you fell right on top of them," Blake told me. He looked just has stern as Tyler.

"You know, it's a shame you won't become a doctor anymore. Even almost passed out drunk you were able to explain to me perfectly how to do your stitches," Daphnee told me.

I frowned a little when I looked at her. There was something different about her... I shook my head. It didn't matter for now. For now what matter was that apparently I had needed stitches. "I did?"

I started to lift off the bandage hiding Daphnee's handy work while she told me, "Yeah, even if nurses aren't supposed to do stitches you were kind of extremely pushy about me doing it."

I examined the result. Not bad, not bad at all. "You did a nice job," I told her. Even if a pre-med student had no right to do stitches, it had been one of the first thing my father had thought me. I had never known why. I just remembered stitching bananas and my father's old leather satchels, and anything I could put my hands on that slightly resembled the texture of skin.