find Emma drunkenly hunched over the basin and drinking water from the tap.
"Emma!" I rush to her side and pull her away. Moving the hair from her face I look into her bloodshot eyes and wait for a reaction.
"Hey, Mickey! I missed you!" She pouts dramatically and leans against me. I hold her waist and steady her. “Smithy bought tequila for the table.”
"Oh, no. Have you been sick?"
"Not yet!" She giggles, and shouts, into my ear.
"Maybe that's enough drink for tonight then," I suggest as we move towards the door.
"I think you're right. You're so clever Ms. Cole. Or Mrs. Jenner!" she jokes, as her laughter bellows down the corridor.
"Shh!" I scold, attempting to be serious. "Shall I help you to our room?"
"No, Mickey. I’m fine," she mumbles, before tripping over her own feet. I manage to hold onto her, but her fall has made her see sense. "Oh, okay. If you insist."
As we turn onto the dance floor I look across to where we were sat earlier, hoping to catch Jesse’s eye to let him know that I’ll be back in a moment. For what? I don’t know. But I have no such luck anyway. His attention is fully grasped by Kristen Matthews. She’s stood in front of him, much closer than she needs to be, effectively blocking my view of him. It shouldn't bother me but it does, because it's her. She’s beautiful, that obvious kind of beauty; thick blonde hair, a fantastic figure, a tan that came from a bottle rather than the Bahamas. The years have been kind to her and Jesse wouldn't be a man if he couldn't see that. She would have thought herself too good for him at school, but now they look like the perfect couple. I have no doubt that she would be more than willing to offer herself to him tonight.
My intentions are to interrupt them, but as I walk in their direction his hand reaches out and strokes the length of her arm. Oh my God. He's flirting. I was right. He’s just here for a good time and he doesn't even need for it to be with me. I feel sick. How embarrassing that I’ve dreamt up this romantic scenario for us both. My excitement has been replaced with anger and humiliation. I turn both myself and Emma away and march us towards the door, as fast as Emma and her tipsy legs can go.
Chapter 6
Emma is completely unaware of the drama playing out around her as I tuck her into bed. She falls asleep immediately and I plan on doing the exact same thing. In the confines of our room, with the adrenaline from our hasty escape leaving my body, the effects of the alcohol are more noticeable. Away from the disco lights and party atmosphere my head suddenly feels foggy.
I pour myself a glass of water from the bathroom sink and down it in one, hoping to combat the resilient alcohol still present in my body. I need to check my phone before bed so I look for my bag.
Shit. My bag…
I left it downstairs. I haven't had it since I was sat at the bar with Jesse. If it didn't have the lifeline that is my phone in it I would just leave it, but I need it. Stupid.
Back in the elevator, I check my reflection in the surrounding mirrors. I plan on being in and out, not even stopping to talk to Jesse and her , but I still want to look half decent. My eyes are turning red and my lips are stained slightly pink from the red wine, but my hair is still acceptable and my make up lies intact. Thank you, Emma!
As I enter the function room I immediately see them still talking, no doubt he hasn't even noticed that I left. I can just about make out my bag on the bar behind him. Maybe I can ask someone else to get it for me? I look around, but any friendly faces are either slouched drunkenly in their chairs or dancing madly on the dance floor. There’s not even a bartender nearby to ask. Damn it, Michaela, you’ll just have to get it yourself!
I stride towards them both and try for impassive, but I don't think either of them is fooled. Squeezing between them I snatch my bag, placing it scrappily over my shoulder. I turn briefly to Kristen and
"Emma!" I rush to her side and pull her away. Moving the hair from her face I look into her bloodshot eyes and wait for a reaction.
"Hey, Mickey! I missed you!" She pouts dramatically and leans against me. I hold her waist and steady her. “Smithy bought tequila for the table.”
"Oh, no. Have you been sick?"
"Not yet!" She giggles, and shouts, into my ear.
"Maybe that's enough drink for tonight then," I suggest as we move towards the door.
"I think you're right. You're so clever Ms. Cole. Or Mrs. Jenner!" she jokes, as her laughter bellows down the corridor.
"Shh!" I scold, attempting to be serious. "Shall I help you to our room?"
"No, Mickey. I’m fine," she mumbles, before tripping over her own feet. I manage to hold onto her, but her fall has made her see sense. "Oh, okay. If you insist."
As we turn onto the dance floor I look across to where we were sat earlier, hoping to catch Jesse’s eye to let him know that I’ll be back in a moment. For what? I don’t know. But I have no such luck anyway. His attention is fully grasped by Kristen Matthews. She’s stood in front of him, much closer than she needs to be, effectively blocking my view of him. It shouldn't bother me but it does, because it's her. She’s beautiful, that obvious kind of beauty; thick blonde hair, a fantastic figure, a tan that came from a bottle rather than the Bahamas. The years have been kind to her and Jesse wouldn't be a man if he couldn't see that. She would have thought herself too good for him at school, but now they look like the perfect couple. I have no doubt that she would be more than willing to offer herself to him tonight.
My intentions are to interrupt them, but as I walk in their direction his hand reaches out and strokes the length of her arm. Oh my God. He's flirting. I was right. He’s just here for a good time and he doesn't even need for it to be with me. I feel sick. How embarrassing that I’ve dreamt up this romantic scenario for us both. My excitement has been replaced with anger and humiliation. I turn both myself and Emma away and march us towards the door, as fast as Emma and her tipsy legs can go.
Chapter 6
Emma is completely unaware of the drama playing out around her as I tuck her into bed. She falls asleep immediately and I plan on doing the exact same thing. In the confines of our room, with the adrenaline from our hasty escape leaving my body, the effects of the alcohol are more noticeable. Away from the disco lights and party atmosphere my head suddenly feels foggy.
I pour myself a glass of water from the bathroom sink and down it in one, hoping to combat the resilient alcohol still present in my body. I need to check my phone before bed so I look for my bag.
Shit. My bag…
I left it downstairs. I haven't had it since I was sat at the bar with Jesse. If it didn't have the lifeline that is my phone in it I would just leave it, but I need it. Stupid.
Back in the elevator, I check my reflection in the surrounding mirrors. I plan on being in and out, not even stopping to talk to Jesse and her , but I still want to look half decent. My eyes are turning red and my lips are stained slightly pink from the red wine, but my hair is still acceptable and my make up lies intact. Thank you, Emma!
As I enter the function room I immediately see them still talking, no doubt he hasn't even noticed that I left. I can just about make out my bag on the bar behind him. Maybe I can ask someone else to get it for me? I look around, but any friendly faces are either slouched drunkenly in their chairs or dancing madly on the dance floor. There’s not even a bartender nearby to ask. Damn it, Michaela, you’ll just have to get it yourself!
I stride towards them both and try for impassive, but I don't think either of them is fooled. Squeezing between them I snatch my bag, placing it scrappily over my shoulder. I turn briefly to Kristen and
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