Love and Fame Games (Book 1)

19

Minutes after I first woke up next morning, I was still in bed, a horrified expression frozen on my face.

Physically speaking, I felt fine. But if given the choice, I would gladly take the most brutal of hangovers over the pain of remembering with extreme clarity every embarrassing detail of the night before, when I got drunk, threw up and lost my shit in front of the boy I liked.

Ugh, I thought at first, and then out loud, with a shudder. "Ugh!" Another wave of embarrassment washed over me, making me duck under covers, which were light pink and full of roses.

There was a knock on my door, followed by the sound of it opening. "What?" I yelled, peeking out but not emerging from my soft warm cocoon, where I had decided to stay forever.

"Good, you're awake." My dad's cheery tone didn't fool me for one second. He was in the living room when I got in, had probably been waiting in the dark all evening, although he claimed to just be getting a midnight snack and asked me to join him. I passed and said good night before hurrying to my room but he must have sensed what went on anyway. Also, he had a bottle of water in one hand and a bottle of Advil in the other. Which was thoughtful, but also did not bode well for me.

"What's that for?" I asked as he set the stuff he had brought on my bedside table. As a response he gave me a look that made me decide not to push my luck. "I mean, thanks, Dad, but I don't need that. I'm totally fine."

"Because you already took something?" He frowned when I didn't answer. "What did I tell you about self-medicating?"

"Only everything I know, Dad," I said. He worked in the Research and Development department of a global pharmaceutical company and therefore was a great source of useful information like that.

Dad sighed. Like, what was the big deal? It wasn't like I was popping prescription painkillers or anything, just a bunch of supplements that he himself told me worked together so I wouldn't feel like shit after nights like the previous one.

"Including that you shouldn't? And that it could lead to horrible side effects?" His voice became gruff. "Now I don't even know what to punish you for first."

"Isn't that Mom's job anyway?" I said, under my breath.

"If you mean making sure our kids are safe and making good choices, then it's both our jobs."

Jesus. I stifled a groan. "I'm sorry I drank, Dad. It won't happen again."

"And if ever it does, you'll call me or Mom to come pick you up? Like we talk about every time something like this happens?"

"We had a designated driver!"

"And was everyone there as smart as you girls?"

"If they weren't, at least they had chauffeurs. It was an Adamson party after all," I said. Dad was unamused. "Okay, I'll call. Satisfied?"

"I will be when you keep your word." He shrugged. "By the way, somebody famous is waiting for you outside. "

"Pfft. He's not that famous."

"Oh he's hella famous!" Dad said. I made the face I always made whenever he spoke like someone my age. "What? He is! You been living under a rock or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, if he's so famous, why hasn't anyone let him in?"

"And no one will until I know what happened to his face."

It took me a moment to understand, but then I remembered the fight he was in, and everything else afterwards, and got all wound up again.

"Some jerks think they can get away with anything," I said through clenched teeth.