have that kind of ammunition now. I knew I needed to get away from Vince before things escalated.
I pulled out my wallet and dropped a couple twenties before moving away without a goodbye.
5
I had a weak moment. That was the only explanation for my confession about what my mom had said to me before I left for Vegas. I blamed the way too strong mojitos for the way my words exploded from of my mouth like I was Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Gross visual, but it’s exactly how I felt.
It started when Bekka had checked in with her and Katy’s mom on the status of Bekka’s three dogs. After video chatting her dogs, Bekka collapsed into the chaise that separated the two bedrooms in our suite. She had a sunburn on her nose and her eyes were bloodshot from a combination of lack of sleep and copious amounts of alcohol. A day spent at a rooftop pool had sounded crazy fun at the time, but it was a miracle that any of us were sober and awake enough to hail our Uber back to the hotel. It was our third day in Vegas, the last night of the trip (praise the Lord), and Bekka was talking about her dogs like she hadn’t seen them in a hundred years. And then she wailed about how overbearing and overprotective her mom was being. Bekka still allowed her mother access to her bank account, which meant Bekka and Katy’s mom had monitored the expenditures of this entire trip so far.
Bekka was past the point of buzzed and full on drunk—crying all over herself about missing the dogs, about her mom calling her every hour. Katy was making reservations at that night’s restaurant—Katy’s choice, naturally—and I cuddled up next to Bekka on the too firm chaise and rested my head against the headrest.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting Bekka prattle drunkenly on about one of her dogs who got insecure if she wasn’t around him constantly. And another dog that piddled every time the microwave went off—gross—and how her mom wasn’t the most sympathetic to their needs or quirks. And then somehow, the conversation turned to how her mom once put a tracker on Bekka’s car, to make sure Bekka was being safe.
“Do you have a dog?” she asked, gently nudging me.
“I have a brother,” I said, not opening my eyes. “That counts, right? He’s basically a dog.”
Lauren hiccupped a laugh and slid to the floor at the foot of the chaise, her hair spilling over my bare legs. We were all in that post-drinking sleepy phase, and I’d be shocked if any of us made it to dinner at this rate. I could sleep for a week if I had the choice. Sun plus alcohol all day long had that effect on you.
“Is he hot?” Lauren asked, but thanks to her heavy tongue thanks to copious amounts of sangria, it sounded like “he’s snot?” which made me laugh.
“His girlfriends think he is, I guess.”
“He has more than one?” Bekka mumbled, her head finding my shoulder as her breaths evened out.
“Not at once, but there’s hardly ever a break between them.”
“How come you never have a boyfriend?” Bekka asked. “Guys like you. You’re funny and approachable and cool. You have nice shoes.”
I opened one eye to peer at my bare feet. “I don’t like having boyfriends,” I said. “Too much work.”
“Oh, they’re not all work. What’s your type?” Bekka asked.
“In high school, she usually went for older dudes,” Lauren chimed in.
“Really?” This seemed to give Bekka more energy. “I guess that makes sense.”
I scrunched my forehead. “Keane isn’t older. He was in our grade,” I reminded Lauren.
Lauren shifted on the floor, nearly knocking over a lamp in her carelessness. “Yeah, okay, not him. But the teacher.”
My blood instantly ran cold, awakening me yet freezing me still on the spot.
“Oh, you were hot for the teachers?” Katy asked, reminding me she was within hearing distance.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I needed to halt this train before it went off the rails, before I couldn’t lie my way away from it.
“Just one teacher. Uh, the English teacher. What was his name?”
“Speaking of overbearing moms,” I said casually, ignoring Lauren and sitting up so that I could draw Bekka and Lauren’s attention away from the topic Lauren had brought up. “My mom gave me a list of rules before I came here.”
“Really?” Bekka asked, her eyes hungry for more. I felt bad for her, that she