Finally, I lay flat on my back and double-check my position by patting the sand on either side of me with the palms of my heavy hands. Then I look up at the star-filled sky and watch the stars move back and forth across the blackness in a poetic pattern.
Camryn’s face appears on my chest like a ghost out of mist.
“Baby?” I ask. “Are you all right?”
I’m worried about her, but I can’t stop smiling.
“Yeah. I’m goooood. I’m good.”
“Lay by me,” I tell her.
I shut my eyes when I feel her head on my chest, and I smell the shampoo she always uses, but it’s so much stronger than before. Everything is stronger. Every sound. The feel of the wind on my face. Dax Riggs singing “Night Is the Notion” in the background somewhere that my mind tells me is far away, but it’s so goddamn loud it’s like the Jeep is right next to my head. I can almost smell the rubber from the tires.
And I can’t help it. I start singing “Night Is the Notion” as loud as I can. I don’t know how I know all the words already, but I know them. I fucking know them. And it feels like the song is going on for hours and I don’t care. Eventually, I stop singing along and just close my eyes and feel the music move through me. And I don’t care about anything right now except the moment. And I’m horny as fuck. It takes me a second—I think—to realize that my dick feels the same breeze that my face feels. And it feels good.
“Camryn? What? Yes.”
I don’t even know what I’m saying, or if I’m really saying anything at all. My mind tells me that I need to make sure she’s not so messed up that she’s giving me a blow job in front of these people, but at the same time I don’t want her to stop.
My breath catches and my head falls over to one side. I see Caleb on top of one of those chicks, her naked thighs crushed around his thrusting body. I look away. I stare back up at the sky. Traces of light move back and forth as the stars move. I shudder when I feel my dick hit the back of her throat.
I look down. I see blonde hair. I reach out to touch it, part of me wanting to pull her away, the other part wanting to force her to take it deeper. I end up doing the latter, but when I throw my head back and see Camryn’s face lying next to mine, I snap upward from the shoulders.
“Get off me, bitch!” I manage to get out.
I kick her off of me and the high does a one eighty. I’m not enjoying it anymore.
I force myself to sit upright. I try smacking myself in the head with both hands hoping to jar myself sober, but it does jack shit. I manage to get my dick back in my shorts, and I look across the sand through the fire to see that slutty bitch already passed out next to Caleb. I don’t know how much time has gone by, but everybody is passed out but me.
I’m panicking. I can’t fucking breathe. What the fuck just happened?
I roll over onto my side and grab Camryn, forcing her next to me, and I don’t let her go.
And that’s the last thing I remember.
Camryn
I feel sick. God, I’ve never, ever, had a hangover like this before. The early morning sun and the breeze coming off the ocean wake me up. At first I just lay here because I’m afraid if I move I’m going to throw up. My head is pounding, the tips of my fingers are numb, the rest of my body a nauseous, trembling mess. I moan and open my eyes the rest of the way, pressing one arm horizontally across my stomach. I know there’s no way I’m getting off this beach without puking for a good five minutes first, but I try to hold it back as long as I can.
My cheek is pressed into the sand beneath me. I feel grains sticking to my skin. Very carefully, I reach up a finger and shuffle it away before it gets inside my eye.
I hear a thwap followed by a cracking noise and shouting.
Against the argument from my stomach, I roll over onto my other side facing the ocean.
“Get off of him!” I hear a girl scream.
That wakes me up even more, and for a split second I realize just how out of it I really was. But I’m wide awake now. I raise my head from the sand to see Andrew pummeling Tate with his fists.
“Andrew!” I try to shout, but my throat is sore and my voice is hoarse, so I only manage to croak out his name instead. “Andrew!” I say again, gaining more control over my voice.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Tate yells.
He’s trying to back away from Andrew, but Andrew just keeps coming. He punches him again and again, this time knocking Tate on his ass in the sand.
Then Tate’s brother joins in and spears Andrew from the side. They both fall off of Tate and roll several feet. Andrew grabs Caleb by the throat and lifts him over his body, throwing him hard against the sand, and is on top of him in seconds. He punches Caleb three times before Tate is behind him, pulling him backward and away.
“Chill the fuck out, man!” Tate screams.
But Andrew rounds on him catching his chin with an uppercut, and I hear another stomach-turning crunch. Tate stumbles backward, holding his hand over his jaw.