I wake up with my head pounding and an ugly feeling in my stomach, as though I’ve just eaten and dared to ride four whole rollercoasters without regurgitating. God, what’s wrong with me?

I’m in my room but everything looks too bright. The soft pink walls and white blinds with cream curtains. My clean, white polished floor and the clothes that I still haven’t reguarded. Why do I feel as though I’m forgetting something? Everything’s here.

My desk next to my bed. My closet and large mirror. The door to my room hasn’t moved — no, that’s stupid. Doors can’t move. Although everything felt as though it were spinning and poking fun at her for forgetting something so important.

She growled in frustration.

_Ugh, what _is_ it! Okay, Catherine. Start with what you remember . . . _

Yesterday was Friday and school just got out. I got home and ate some freshly baked cookies Mom made. Up to my room I went. Then I pulled my laptop out and started scrolling . . .

Oh! After maybe an hour I got a text from June. She told me there was a party at—

My hand smacks against my mouth when I finally figure it out. It was a little too harsh and abrupt of an action, and sends a pounding through my dumb-ass head. I groan—because of the splitting headache and also the fact that I had sneaked off to the party last night! That was it! I had had my first introduction to alcohol. Not a very friendly first meet, evidently.

**• • • **

**[ LAST NIGHT AT JILL’S PARTY ]**

Catherine’s head pounded as she downed another drink. Everyone was cheering her on, but she was only half aware. Everything was foggy, twisting and turning. She had to admit, she’d never felt this unfeeling in such a long while. It was as though she could do absolutely anything and come out perfectly fine!

She half-climbed-half-fell down from the table she was standing on. The glass milk bottle she had been drinking whine from shattered when it met the hard ground. Firm arms had caught her just before she connected with the floor and pulled her back to her feet, effortlessly. Catherine met cool, blue eyes and a mop of beautiful black hair with striking white tips and a well structured jaw.

“Beautiful” was the first word that came to mind. The boy laughed. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d almost fallen, or because she accidentally spoken her thoughts aloud.

“That’s a new one,” Jamey Gill said.

_Definitely the second one_.

Her hands grabbed his black shirt for balance as she tipped forward again. She could feel the warmth of skin through his fabric. Or was she just hot? He felt exactly how she had ever imagined. Lean and muscular and perfect all at once.

“How many did you have?” He asked.

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a loud burp. Jamy blinked and chuckled. He removed a large chip fragment from her blonde hair.

“Hey,” she drew the word out. “That’s mine.”

“How about this. You can have it back if you allow me to take you home,” he offered.

She half heard what he said, though. She was too focused the vibrant blue of his irises and the dark, long lashes circling them. She’d let him take her anywhere as long as she was with him.

Catherine didn’t know if she nodded or not. Either way, she had a feeling he would’ve taken her to wherever he was taking her to no matter what her reply was.

Before she knew it, he was pulling her with him through a crowd of dancing, drunk teens and blasting music. Bright lights of all different colors surrounded them. People shouted and howled and kissed each other all at once. There was so much going on, too much for Catherine to make sense of.

It helped to focus on Jamy. She’d had the biggest crush on him since fourth grade. Her class had been playing dodgeball in the school’s gym and she’d been hit pretty hard in the face. Everything was fine, other than her hitting the ground with an embarrassing thump, and the laughter of her whole class following shortly after. Jamy was the only one that wasn’t laughing. He hadn’t been the one that hit her with the ball, but he ran over just to make sure she was okay.

Ever since, they’d greeted each other walking to their classes and such. Normal stuff that felt like more to Catherine, even though a friendly “hello” was all it was.

But this was more than just a “hello.” He was holding her hand!

“Alright, Catherine, let’s get you home.” They were outside. Jamy’s voice pulled her back to reality. He let go of her to open his car door. It was such a shock that she tripped over the tire of a bicycle left carelessly on the sidewalk, and fell flat on her face.

She grunted and moaned as her stomach hurled at the sudden connection of the pavement. She’d have puked if she hadn’t caught sight of something that distracted her from the thought. It was a piece of ripped paper on the wet concrete that said words she was having a hard time making sense of. She reached out and grabbed it as Jamy grabbed her arm and pulled her back up.

“Geez, what is it with your head, huh?” He touched a tender spot on her chin. She winced. “Yeah, that’s gunna leave a mark.” Catherine felt a chill as his thumb grazed her mouth. But at the contact, a sharp little pain followed and he pulled back once she gasped. “Looks like that milk bottle got you too,” he remarked.

There was a deep cut on her bottom lip. She licked it and tasted the metallic sensation of blood. Then she blinked and they were suddenly in his car, pulling out of Jill’s driveway.

“Can you remember how many drinks you had?” he repeated. “If you can’t speak, then just hold up fingers.”

She looked at her hands as if they were foreign to her. Jamy must’ve noticed and laughed as he took a right onto her street. Her house was the last one all the way down.

Finally she’d figured it out, and held up eight fingers.

He whistled. “That’s impressive—but not good, though. Don’t do that again,” he corrected himself.

She laughed, although she wasn’t completely sure way. A hiccup followed shortly after, and he chuckled at her as he pulled in front of her house and stepped out of the car.

She thought he was leaving her for a moment, but he wasn’t. He appeared on her side, opened the door, and reached over to unbuckle her. Her heart was already beating fast as it was, but him being so close to her made it pound. It was late. All the neighbors were surely asleep by now including her parents.

Everything was still fuzzy, but she seemed to be able to focus on Jamy with some strain. His fingers fumbled with the buckle. He apologized, softly, multiple times and finally got the strap to come undone, but when he looked back to her, he paused. She knew she was staring, but she just couldn’t help it. The moonlight was doing such dangerous things to his already breathtaking portrait.

He chuckled awkwardly. “Uh—”

But before he could say anything more, she grabbed his face and pulled him closer until their lips were pressed together. He tensed at first, but then seemed to welcome it as she felt his hands cup her face gently. Jamy’s lips felt right against hers. His thumb rubbed her cheek tenderly. One of his hands trailed down her side to her waist. Then he pulled away. She’d never seen him embarrassed before, but it was obviously in the way he laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his hair.

Two seventeen year olds kissing at dark in a car. It sounded like a movie. Was this a movie? Is that why she was feeling this way?

She said something, if only she knew what.

“Let’s—uh—get you inside, Clumsy Catherine,” he concluded after a moment of him trying to collect himself. Jamy looked at her as if he wanted to keep kissing her. But she knew he wouldn’t.

He had carried her up to her front door and rang the doorbell. Mom and Dad had answered and he explained to them what happened. They thanked him and then took her inside and upstairs to her room. She’d have imagined them being a whole lot angrier, but they were more concerned. However, a distant part of her knew she would be getting a stern talking to in the morning when she was feeling more like herself.

**• • •**

**[ BACK TO THIS MORNING ]**

“I** **kissed Jamy Gill!” I shout a whisper through my hand. The hand that had touched his face just last night. What the hell am I supposed to do the next time I see him? It’ll be so awkward!

I kick my legs over the side of my bed and sit up, ignoring the headache that follows. This is what I get for acting like such a dumbass last night. Something falls to the ground—a piece of paper. It’s the thing I picked up when I fell outside Jill’s house when Jamy was taking me home. I bend over to read it:

_“Ephesians 5:28_

__

_And be not drunk with wine . . ._”

Then my stomach twirls and I grab my little garbage can and puke until my stomach is clear of the wretched drink.