“The fuck, guys?” I roar, barging through the little circle that surrounds her. “You can see she’s had way too much, why are you letting her drink more?”
“Lighten up man, she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Corey offers as he stands practically undressing her with his eyes.
I don't even have time to think before I push Corey out of my way and grab Blair’s hand, dragging her back through the house and away from the set of dicks trying to get her completely messed up.
“Wait, slow down, you're hurting my arm,” she says, stumbling behind me.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I drop her hand immediately and turn to meet her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, honestly.” I roll my shoulders. “I think it’s time we leave.”
People are watching with way too much interest as I place my hand at the small of her back and walk us through the crowded hall and out of the front door.
“I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you,” she says once we get outside.
“Wait what? No, of course you haven't embarrassed me, I just want to get you home, make sure you’re gonna be okay.” I suck in a deep breath and blow it out slowly.
“Trust me, you’re gonna feel like hell in the morning after what you’ve put away.” I take her hand again and lead her to my car. I pull open the door for her and she stops dead in her tracks, narrowing her eyes.
“You’ve been drinking, I’m not getting in there with you.” I smile wide. Even drunk she’s smart.
“I only had two beers; I'm good,” I assure her before sitting her in the passenger seat and buckling it.
I barely pull out of the drive before she’s asleep with her head resting against the window. I try waking her to ask where she lives, but all I get is a string of incoherent mumbles. I contemplate going through her purse to find her cell and call her mom, but I don't know if that’s such a good idea given the state she’s in. I war with myself about taking her back to my house before I decide to let her sleep off the alcohol in the pool house. Dad won’t be home until mid-morning and he almost never goes out back. It’ll be fine, plus her car is still at my place since I drove us to TJ’s.
I’ve laid Blair on the futon in the pool house after carrying her from my car. She weighs next to nothing but my ribs still hurt and it’s left me out of breath. I pull her Chucks off and place a blanket over her.
“Ethan?” Her sleep-strained voice breaks through the silence.
“Yeah, I'm here.”
“I don’t feel so good.”
Shit. I pull back the blanket and scoop her up into my arms walking as fast as I can towards the bathroom. My chest is burning with pain and I’m trembling as I go to place her on the floor but I'm too late. The contents of her stomach explode all over my t-shirt, and I have to hold my breath so I don’t start to gag and puke too. I position her over the toilet while she continues to heave out the gallons of punch she must have consumed.
She’s shaking like mad as I push back the hair from her face and rub small circles on her back. The tears start to stream under her glasses and down her flushed cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries.
“Shush, it’s fine,” I tell her in a hushed tone. “You think you’re about done?”
“I don’t know,” she hiccups. “My head won’t stop spinning, I’m scared to move.” She drops her head back down onto her arms currently holding the toilet in a tight embrace.
“I’m never drinking again. Why would people do this voluntarily?”
I smile and resist the urge to tell her that she should have listened to me and switched to water hours ago.
“Don’t worry, you’ll start to feel better soon.” I look down at my t-shirt and instantly wish I hadn’t. I need to change before I start gagging. I stand and peel the shirt off, dropping it outside the shower. Blair looks up at me, then quickly removes her glasses and wipes them on the hem of her t-shirt before replacing them. Her eyes widen and she gasps. I follow her gaze to my chest and then freeze. Fuck. The bruises are pretty evident. They’re all over my ribs in varying shades of purple and yellow. Why the hell did I take my shirt off in front of her? I know better than that. Hell, I've had enough practice.
“What—” she hiccups, “what happened to you?”
Her voice is laced with concern, intrigue and sadness. I hate it.
“It’s nothing, don't worry about it.” Please don't question it, I don't want to lie.
“It looks like a pretty big something to me, who did it? Have you told your parents? Your dad?”
My body instantly tenses at her mentioning the asshole and she notices before I can try to relax my shoulders.
“Blair, it’s nothing just leave it…please.” It's a plea and I drop my head between my shoulders and sigh. Her body is still wrapped around the toilet but I can feel her gaze burning into me, searing into my soul.
“Ethan, does this have something to do with your dad? Every time I bring him up you flinch.”
Her next words come out as a whisper.