Drunk Texts

“Are you coming tonight?” 

“Sarah…”

“No. I will not take no for an answer. Enough is enough, okay? I gave you a few days to cry and stay in bed in sweatpants and eat pizza, and now it’s over. Get up!”

“That was harsh,” I say as I drag my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. Sarah has her arms crossed at this point, and I stare daggers at her fingers tapping against her upper arm. “I’m going.” 

“Go faster,” she says as she grabs my arm and pulls me off the bed. “We are going to have a great time tonight!” I feel like she’s staring into my soul, trying to spread some sunshine in there. 

“How am I supposed to have a good time? Seriously, Sarah, it’s only been a few days, and I’m still really upset about how everything went down.” I think back to the horrible drunk break up text I got on Wednesday night from Ryan and involuntarily shudder. 

I see her eyes soften as she pulls me into a hug. “I know, I’m sorry, Rach.” I blink to keep the tears from falling down my cheeks. I haven’t cried yet today, and I want to keep it that way, especially if Sarah is dragging me out tonight. She pulls back to look at me again. “But we are going to have fun tonight! And no one we know will even be there; it’s just all my boss’s friends.” 

I walk over to my closet. “So I shouldn’t wear my bright orange dress with the plunging neckline?” 

Sarah laughs and just says, “Please don’t. We have to leave at 6 on the dot, okay?” 

“Got it. I’ll be ready at 6:30,” I wink at her. 

“Not funny!” she calls over her shoulder as she shuts my door behind her. 

***

“I’m ready! 5:55 FYI!” I smirk. 

“I’m just glad you seem to be in a better mood now,” I link my arm with Sarah’s. 

“Fake it ‘till you make it, right?” I ask. Sarah nods, and we’re out the door. 

Of course her boss sent a huge limo for us to go to the party in. Sarah has been working for some talent agency in downtown LA basically the entire time we’ve been in school, and this year she got to start going to parties. When she agreed to go to her first one though, she didn’t know it also involved getting to ride in a limo every single time. Rachel usually went with her so she would have someone to talk to while her boss networked with everyone. Honestly, there didn’t seem much point for Sarah to be there, but neither of them were complaining, especially not when the driver informed them there was chilled champagne waiting for them in the back. 

“Cheers!”

“To what?” I ask. 

“Who cares?” She downs her first glass in one. I shrug and follow suit. 

We’re each three glasses in by the time we pull up to the party. We get out and follow the horde of people toward the giant white mansion ahead. “Does President Snow live here?” Sarah asks and then nearly falls over laughing.

“You’re such a light weight,” I playfully shove her, but then have to grab her arm when she almost falls over again. “Shit, sorry.” We’re both laughing like idiots so loudly that people are starting to stare at us. “Shhh. We have to get it together in case we run into your boss in here.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine by the time we get inside.” 

It takes forever for us to get inside. Even when we’re through the gate, there’s a long line, and we have to give our names at the door before we can cross the threshold. Shockingly, Sarah holds it together until we get inside and she says, “Let’s go to the bar.” I just roll my eyes and follow her; I’m not here to impress anyone. 

“Can I get two margaritas, please?” Sarah asks. I see the bartender frantically nod. These parties are always crazy. Sarah turns to me. “So, let’s get to it. We need to find you someone to hook up with.” 

My eyeballs nearly pop out of my head. “What? No.” She just keeps looking at me. “No, I’m not hooking up with anybody. Not yet, anyway. Will you stop looking at me like that?!” 

“I’m just saying. We’re here. There are a bunch of hot celebrities…” 

“Did you just wiggle your eyebrows at me? Maybe I should drink both of these margaritas,” I say as the bartender puts them in front of us. 

“Don’t you dare touch mine!” She laughs as she grabs hers and takes a big drink, but it gets stuck to the napkin. Mine does the same, so I pull it off and put it back on the bar. “Oh. My. God.” 

I put my drink down. “What?” 

She smirks. “What’s that on your napkin?” I look down. 

“Did you do this?” I ask it like I’m joking, but I’m kind of annoyed.

“Does that look like my number?” 

“You could’ve put the bartender up to it,” I whisper since he’s only a few feet away from us. 

“When would I have done that? Just look around the bar; try and see who it is.” 

“Fine.” I scan the row of people around the bar, and sure enough, some guy across from us raises his glass at me. I quickly turn back around to Sarah, “That must be him.” I take a giant sip of my drink. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Can you please stop saying that?” 

“Sorry, but do you know who that is?” I can’t even count how many times Sarah asks me that during these parties. 

“No…” 

She rolls her eyes and then says, “It’s Gavin Raye!” I must still have a blank look on my face because she elaborates. “The new singer my boss is representing? He just had a huge single come out! Oh my God you have to go over to him.” 

Sarah starts to grab her drink like she’s going to walk over there, so I grab her wrist so she can’t pick it up. “No. No way. I’m not talking to anyone. I’m not ready! So stop asking!” I don’t mean to get so mad, especially since I know Sarah is only being pushy because she’s drunk. 

“Sorry,” she stares down at the bar and starts picking at the nail polish on her thumb. 

“No, I’m sorry. Look, let’s just forget about it, okay? Let’s go have a great time.” She smiles at me and holds out her arm. I link mine with hers, and we leave the bar without a second glance. 

***

It’s almost 4 a.m. by the time we get home. I certainly caught up with Sarah in terms of drinks as the night went on, so it takes me a couple of tries to get my key in the door. I cringe as I slam the door knob into the wall. Hopefully I didn’t just wake up our roommates. I don’t handle Jen well when I’m drunk. 

Once we make it in I lock the door again and half carry Sarah over to the couch where we sit down. We both bend over to take our shoes off at the same time and laugh as we struggle for way too long with the buckles. “Why do they make these things so damn complicated?” Sarah asks. It sets me off, and I can’t stop laughing, but I stop immediately when I see Sarah waving a napkin in front of my face. 

“When did you take that?” I ask. I’m only partially annoyed with her persistence at this point. 

“When you weren’t looking,” she laughs. “Come on, humor me, please!” 

“I am not texting him. You can take that napkin and throw it right in the trash.” 

“I dare you.” 

“Are you five?” I can’t help but laugh at her face; she looks so mischievous right now. “I’m not drunk texting some celebrity represented by your boss.” 

“Well you’re not going to text him sober either,” she says. We stare at each other for a solid ten seconds without saying anything. Finally, I cave. 

“Fine,” I pull out my phone. “What should I say?” Sarah gives me a huge smile and hands me the napkin.