“Yes.” It’s not a lie. I had an apple.

“I can’t drink unless I eat. You wanna eat a sandwich with me so I don’t look like even more of a pussy before we drink?”

“Ruins the buzz, man.” River, who came into the house behind us, shakes his head disapprovingly.

I look up at Billy. He is smiling sincerely, so I smile back. “Sure.”

“Chicken breast and salad. Crackers between drinks and water. Don’t forget to drink water,” he warns with his finger pointed at me.

I nod. He knows I am full of it, though.

I don’t drink. I have had two glasses of wine, and I wound in Franco’s bed the first and only time I have ever had sex. I was gonna do it, wine or not. I was sick of believing that the one person I had ever allowed myself to fantasize about was a big man-whore.

After eating, River hands me a drink, then hands one to Billy. “Bottoms up, bitches.”

“Cheers,” Billy says with a look of caution in his eyes.

I take a drink and nearly choke. It tastes awful, followed by a burn in my belly, and then … Well, then the taste of cinnamon fills my mouth.

I like it, a lot.

Evidently, River notices and fills it up again.

“River, she’s had enough,” Billy says.

“No, I like it. A lot.” I grab the glass and slam it down.

Burn in the throat.

Burn in the belly.

Burst of cinnamon in my mouth.

Yum.

“Another.” I push the glass back to him.

“Damn, girl.” River smirks as he fills it up again.

I take it and drink it down.

Burn in the throat.

Burn in the belly.

Burst of cinnamon in my mouth.

Yum.

“What the hell is going on in here?” I look up to see Memphis with two girls, one on each arm.

“Tally loves the Fireball.”

“Fireball, please.” Tally pushes the fucking glass back to River. When I say glass, I mean, glass. Not a fucking shot glass, either.

“River, Billy, what the fuck are you doing?” I yell at them.

River smirks at me. “She likes it.”

I look at Billy, who shrugs and shakes his head. “She asked for it.”

I glance at her as she downs the damn whiskey. “How many is that?”

“Four, man, chill.”

She is looking at the glass and slowly blows out a breath. Her face is turning a little green¸ and she is holding onto the table with one hand and her stomach with the other.

“Fucking idiots,” I tell them as I pick her up.

I look over at what would have been tonight’s auditions and shake my head, “Goodnight, ladies.”

I hear them whine a bit. Can’t fucking blame them.

“I don’t feel very well,” she slurs before wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I leave you alone for twenty fucking minutes—”

“Spreading your ST-whatevers,” she says, and her stomach heaves.

“You puke on me, and I swear to fuck, Tally,” I warn, as I try my best to stay upright myself while hauling ass to my room.

“I owe you one.” She giggles then hiccups. “Uh-oh.”

I kick open my door right as she chucks all over my chest.

“Aw, fuck, Tales.”

She giggles, then hurls again.

“Sorry?” she says as I set her in the Jacuzzi tub fully dressed.

“You think?” I ask as I start the water. “You made me stink. I don’t do stink.”

“You can’t serious—” she pauses. “Serious—”

“Seriously, Tales,” I tell her, as I climb in the tub.

“What are you—?”

“You stink.” I sit down and the water rising over my board shorts.

“You stink,” she says, narrowing her eyes.

“Not for long.” I grab the faucet hose and spray myself down, then soap up my chest. “Good thing you didn’t blow chunks, Tales.”

I look up to see she is looking at me, her eyes glassy and her mouth gaping. She swallows hard.

I shake my head, erasing the thought that her look is the same every other chick gives me. Tally is fucked up with a capital F, and that look is—

“Shit,” I scramble back, avoiding her next hurl.

She doesn’t stop, either. She throws up again and again.

“Sweet Jesus, Tally.”

I jump out and grab a fist full of her hair, trying to keep it out of the way as her eyes roll back.

“Don’t fucking pass out on me,” I warn.

She is wobbling from side to side as she dry heaves.

“Hold the side of the tub, girl.” I grab the back of her little, green frog tee shirt, the one that’s married to the pig. What’s his name? Fuck it, who cares? I pull it over the back of her head. “All right, arms out.”

“Naughty,” she slurs.

“Stinky, Tales,” I tell her. “Nothing naughty going on in my head.” I see a bright pink swimsuit top covering her. “Besides, you have on a swimsuit.”

She pulls her arms out, then flops back, panting as her stomach muscles visibly contract with each dry heave that occurs after each hiccup.

“Hurts,” she mumbles as she places her hand over her tight as hell, little stomach.

“I know, babe.” And I fucking do know throwing up sucks.

Her teeth start to chatter, and I know damn well she’s gonna be pissed when I hose her down, but I can’t leave her in here, and I won’t put her in bed smelling like that.

“I’m gonna wash you up.” She shakes her head very slightly no. “Sure am,” I confirm, releasing the drain so all that puke washes away. “And I’m thinking you have bottoms on that match this top?” She nods. “Don’t be pissed.”

I pull off her shorts, then start hosing her down from head to toe. Her body is instantly covered in goose bumps, and her teeth start chattering louder. I squeeze out some shampoo into her hair and lather it up as best I can. She tries to help, but she’s like a little shivering rag doll.

“I can do it faster alone.”

“Conditioner,” she whimpers.

“I don’t think we should be worried about—”

“Afro,” she groans.

“You’re really not gonna give a shit, Tally,” I try again.

“Conditioner,” she insists.

Her stomach lurches again, followed by a hiccup as I squirt conditioner in her hair. After I rinse it out, I hose down her body again, and only when she leans forward, hugging her knees and shivering, do I see her back is fried.

Once she is rinsed clean, I have her lie back. She covers her face while I grab the white terrycloth bathrobe off the back of the bathroom door.

“Can you stand up?” She nods, but makes no attempt. “Okay, arms around me.” When she wraps her arms around my neck, I notice the tears running down her face. “Come on, Tales,” I coo gently. “Rookie mistake; don’t be upset. Just listen to me and not those assholes, got it?”

I lift her up, then walk out to the bedroom and push the covers down as she holds on, crying and hiccupping.

“Okay, listen, no tears in my bed.”

“I am not stay—”

“Like hell you aren’t. If you pass out and throw up, you’re fucked. Not on my watch.”

She doesn’t say shit, which amuses me.

“No argument?’

“No, you owe me,” she mumbles.

“So you said.”

I drop my swim trunks, then grab some boxers out of the dresser drawer before grabbing a towel and mopping up the little drips of puke on the floor.

“Care to tell me how I owe you?”

“Senior year.” Her teeth chatter as she curls into a fluffy, white ball. “You came for a visit …” She pauses as she shakes violently. “Came to my house, kissed me, and threw up on my feet. We’re even.”

“Did River give you something to smoke, too, Tales?” She is definitely fucked up. Kissed her? Yeah, right.

She is still shaking when I grab her clothes out of the bathroom and my shorts, wrap them in a towel, and throw them out the door, knowing the cleaning chicks will grab them in the morning.

Still curious about this little fantasy of hers, I flop down on the bed and pull her against me, hoping to give off some body heat and warm her up.