Crossing the Line (Anchored 6)

Odessa

I wake up with a headache from hell.

Groaning, I roll over and reach for the water bottle I keep beside the bed. My hand hits the floor and I fumble around for a little while, but it’s not there. Did I seriously move it? Why would I do that? Usually, I’m great about making sure I have an easy way to stay hydrated when I’m up late reading books. Slowly, I manage to open one eye and then the other, and I peek over the edge of the bed.

Nope.

No water bottle.

Also, since when did I have hardwood floors?

I reach down and touch the floor. Where there used to be pale beige carpet is now a deep mahogany hardwood.

Fuck.

I’m not at home.

A million scenarios run through my head and none of them are good. I’m not sure where I am or how I ended up here, but I need to leave. I need to get home. It’s the day after Christmas and I’m supposed to meet with my dad and my little brothers for lunch. It’s this weird family tradition we have where we meet for pizza on Boxing Day. My mom started it when she was still alive. We’d spend Christmas Eve with Dad’s family and Christmas Day with Mom’s family and on the 26th of December, we’d all hang out together.

Now, even though she’s gone, we still carry on the tradition of meeting for lunch.

Only I’m not at home, I’m not dressed, I don’t have keys, and I don’t know where my phone is.

“Fuck,” I say out loud.

“Oh, hey,” I hear a feminine voice in the hallway. The bedroom door opens and my friend Piper peeks in. “You’re awake,” she says, coming into the room. Then I realize I’m in her guest bedroom. I’ve never actually been in this room, I don’t think. That’s why it’s so unfamiliar, despite having been to Piper’s home.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, still not quite remembering how I ended up here.

“I hope you slept okay,” Piper says.

She doesn’t even blink at seeing me sprawled out naked on her guest room bed. Piper and I play at the same sex club: we’ve seen it all before.

“Here,” Piper hands me a couple of pills and a glass of water. “Thought you might need these.”

Gratefully, I accept the medicine and the water. I swallow the pills and then proceed to finish the entire glass of water. I don’t feel too nauseous, so I don’t think I’m going to throw up. I’m definitely hung over, but it seems to all be centered on my head.

“What am I doing at your house, Piper?” I ask, looking up at her.

She raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, thank you for the water and everything, but why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I do not.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Crying in the parking lot at Anchored.” I shake my head and instantly regret it. Pain blooms.

“Woah,” Piper says. “You need to lie down. Close your eyes, and I’ll tell you everything.”

I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. Instantly, the pain lessons. It’s not gone, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was just a few minutes ago.

“You said you had some sort of altercation with someone at the club,” Piper says. “You didn’t tell me exactly what happened. You just said you were upset. ‘Super pissed,’ is the terminology you used, actually. I called June, who is now engaged by the way, but she said nothing happened, as far as she could tell. I got the feeling she was sort of distracted, though, so I called Christina, and she said she saw you talking with Jasper, and then you got upset and left. She called you a few times, by the way,” Piper hands me my phone.

“Did you charge this?” I ask. It should have been dead by now, but it’s at full bars.