Still not into you - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,30

sitting in a tall bed. There are suitcases all around. And French doors across from me. The place does not look familiar, however.

My eyes dart to one side and I spot the bathroom. Carefully, I get up and walk to the bathroom. I don’t put on the lights, but I do look at myself in the mirror. I’m a mess. Not even a hot mess. My hair is completely out of place. Crumpled and sad. My makeup is all smeared and I have ugly raccoon eyes. I wipe my mouth—lipstick residue comes off on the back of my hand.

“Where is this?” I whisper.

My eyes adjust to the muted light enough for me to stop protecting them with my hand. I look around the bathroom. It’s familiar and foreign at the same time. I feel like I’ve been here before, but not often. This is not our bathroom back at the dorm. Then I see it. My tiny, bright pink, travel-sized flat iron. It hits me. I’m at the hotel. We’re in Atlantic City. For some reason I’m in the room. Weren’t Tea and Tanner supposed to sleep here?

I come back into the room. What the hell am I doing sleeping here and everyone else sleeping there? I search my mind for answers, but it all comes up blank. I can’t remember a thing.

“Oh, shit, why is it so bright in here?” I hear someone say.

The voice startles me. It’s quiet, but it’s definitely not coming from the outside.

It’s coming from the bed.

Please don’t be Tanner.

Please don’t be Tanner.

Please don’t be Tanner.

When he moves the cover from his face and sits up in bed, I see that it’s not Tanner.

It’s Dylan.

“Dylan? What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Stop yelling! My head is killing me.”

I give him a moment to collect his thoughts. He gets up and pulls the blackout shades shut. The sliver of light is gone. My head feels a little better.

“What are you wearing?” Dylan asks me.

I don’t know. I didn’t even think to look. I look down. For some reason, I’m wearing a white bathing suit cover-up. It’s light and airy and has tiny little spaghetti straps.

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. What I don’t reveal is that I’m also not wearing underwear.

Dylan sits up more in bed. He’s not wearing a shirt either.

“Are you wearing any clothes?” I ask him, cautiously.

He rubs the back of his head. Then looks down.

“No.” He shakes his head. He acts like it’s no big deal. Just gives out a little sigh. Clearly, he’s not fully understanding the magnitude of this situation.

“Oh, shit,” I say. “Do you think we…?”

I can’t finish the sentence. No, we couldn’t have. Right? I try to remember something, anything, from last night. Why did I have to drink so much? The last thing I remember is staggering up some stairs at a casino (which one?) with Juliet. My phone said it was 1:30 a.m. or maybe 3:30 a.m.? I have no idea.

“Do you think we what?” Dylan asks.

His mind isn’t working well. Either that or he’s particularly dense.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” I decide to inform him, “and you’re naked.”

“Oh, shit,” he whispers. The expression on his face says it all. Peyton. They just got back together. This is Valentine’s Day, for crying out loud.

“I can’t remember anything,” he says.

“Me neither.” I shake my head.

“You can’t tell Peyton about this. Promise me that you won’t. She’ll never forgive me.”

I nod.

“No, you have to promise,” he says. He’s speaking really fast. It sounds like he’s about to hyperventilate.

“I promise. I don’t want Hudson to know either,” I say.

Oh my God, Hudson! This is the first time he has popped into my head this whole morning.

“Oh, wow, Hudson,” Dylan mumbles. They are roommates and really good friends. This doesn’t look right, not at all. “Maybe nothing happened,” Dylan says. “I mean, we don’t remember a thing. So maybe we were too drunk.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I mumble. “I hope you’re right.”

I find my underwear under the bed and put it on. I turn around as Dylan puts on his clothes. I don’t want to tell him this, but this is going to be a hard one to hide. Juliet is outside and she’s our roommate and not just our roommate, Hudson’s roommate. If we did sleep together, the news is just too juicy for her to keep quiet. If Hudson finds out, I’m sure that Peyton will, too. He won’t be in a very forgiving mood. Besides, I’m not even sure if