ng reflection in the mirror above the sink.
I looked like death.
Mascara smeared, black tearstains down my cheek, lipstick smudged across my mouth, and my hair had balls of rats on each side.
Sheets, towels, and blankets surrounded Travis. He had fashioned a soft pallet to sleep on while I expelled the fifteen shots of tequila I’d consumed the night before. Travis had held my hair out of the toilet, and sat with me all night.
I turned on the faucet, holding my hand under the water until it was the temperature I wanted. Scrubbing the mess from my face, I heard a moan from the floor. Travis stirred, rubbed his eyes, and stretched, and then looked beside him, jerking in a panic.
“I’m right here,” I said. “Why don’t you go to bed? Get some sleep?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Well, good as I can be. I’ll feel better once I get a shower.”
He stood up. “You took my crazy title last night, just so you know. I don’t know where that came from, but I don’t want you to do it again.”
“It’s pretty much what I grew up around, Trav. Not a big deal.”
He took my chin in his hands and wiped the remaining smeared mascara from under my eyes with his thumbs. “It was a big deal to me.”
“Fine, I won’t do it again. Happy?”
“Yes. But I have something to tell you, if you promise not to freak out.”
“Oh, God, what did I do?”
“Nothing, but you need to call America.”
“Where is she?”
“At Morgan. She got into it with Shep last night.”
I rushed through my shower and yanked on the clothes Travis had set on the sink. When I emerged from the bathroom, Shepley and Travis were sitting in the living room.
“What did you do to her?” I demanded.
Shepley’s face fell. “She’s really pissed at me.”
“What happened?”
“I was mad that she encouraged you to drink so much. I thought we were going to end up taking you to the hospital. One thing led to another, and the next thing I know, we’re screaming at each other. We were both drunk, Abby. I said some things I can’t take back,” he shook his head, looking to the floor.
“Like what?” I said, angry.
“I called her a few names I’m not proud of and then told her to leave.”
“You let her leave here drunk? Are you some kind of idiot?” I said, grabbing at my purse.
“Easy, Pidge. He feels bad enough,” Travis said.
I fished my cell phone out of my purse, dialing America’s number.
“Hello?” she answered. She sounded awful.
“I just heard,” I sighed. “Are you okay?” I walked down the hall for privacy, glancing back once to shoot a dirty look at Shepley.
“I’m fine. He’s an asshole.” Her words were abrupt, but I could hear the hurt in her voice. America had mastered the art of hiding her emotions, and she could have hidden it from anyone but me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t go with you.”