The Hollywood Waitress

Chapter 18

Waking up in unfamiliar territory was one thing but trying to figure out where I was without moving an inch was another.

I hadn't the foggiest where I was or how I even got there . . . and that alone was enough to make me want to projectile vomit all over the impeccably white satin sheets that I had alarmingly woken up in.

Plus side? I was still (semi) clothed. . . GO ME!

The smell of coffee wafting up my nose only added to the haze of confusion. I mean who in their right mind even drinks instant coffee nowadays anyway?!

Poppy that's who!

'God sake, GET UP!' I heard her yell unsympathetically in the distance.

I didn't know what to do first, cry with utter relief that I wasn't at some strangers house (or worse still . . . Scott's) or spew my guts up. Unfortunately for Poppy's very plush Victoria Plum sink, I went with the latter . . .

'Here.' she said, handing me a cup of instant (bleurgh) 'Drink this. It'll help.'

With trembling (puke congealed) hands, I brought the cup to my lips and, for the first time in 24 hours, had my first taste of civilisation.

And as the caffeine hit my system, it was then that I noticed what I was actually wearing . . . an oversized Kiss T-Shirt (courtesy of Poppy) which just about covered me down to my, knees and my favourite pastel pink Victoria Secret undies from the day before. I might as well have had 'hanging like a dog' written right across my forehead!

'I'm never drinking again.' I said, flopping down on the sofa acting as normal as my twelve months of 'on the job' performing arts training would allow.

'Shame you didn't think that 24 hours ago.' Poppy smirked.

'What do you mean?'

I knew EXACTLY what she meant (obvs)

'Are you seriously going to pull the whole drunk amnesia crap on me?!' she said, her green eyes bulging out of their sockets. 'Jeeze, at least respect our friendship if nothing else.'

I had every intention of saying something, ANYTHING to defend my inexcusable behaviour but unfortunately words failed me. It was a shame tears didn't do me the same justice.

Blubbing was never one of my most attractive features, especially when combined with a hangover. But I was totally beaten down. And it was soooo Poppy to go straight for the jugular with her whole ''friendship'' speech.

In between sobs, I managed to string some sentences together such as 'I'm a terrible person''-- ''I deserve to be strung up'' -- yada, yada, yada.

'You're not a terrible person!' said Poppy, jumping up from her chair to comfort me, 'just a bad drunk that's all.'

Strangely, the nicer she was the harder I sobbed.

 It started out with me crying over the whole Scott debacle and ended up about Jason and my crumbling career. My parents even had a feature! It was as if I were releasing a whole year's frustration all in one sitting!

Isn't it funny, how you can start out crying over one thing but it ends up being about . . . everything?!

'Okay, so you kissed Scott. It's not such a big deal is it?' She said, rubbing my shoulders reassuringly.

'Well,' I sniffed.' I guess it depends on what part of the night you're referring too. Me sticking my tongue down his throat or him running off mid-kiss to go and find HER.'

'Yeah, but – '

'Really Poppy, I can never leave the house again.' I snorted into my tissue, remembering how I had also vowed to move out of Shirley's apartment – so I guess you could also add ''recently homeless'' to the wrecking ball that was my life.

'Don't be silly Jen, it'll all blow over real soon, you'll see.'

Burying my head into my knees, I cried some more, until I eventually gave myself a terrible headache. And what a stinker it was!

Bless Poppy, she was at my beck and call the entire time with aspirin, more coffee and (when I could finally stomach it) breakfast. And what a breakfast it was . . . syrupy pancakes, crispy bacon, eggs the works!

We were on our third cup of coffee when I eventually stopped crying long enough to ask some restorative questions. 'So how many people saw us?'

'Kissing?' she widened her eyes sarcastically, 'hmm . . . only the whole dancefloor.'

'Oh god' I said, dipping my head back in between my knees. I decided it was probably best to stay in that position until I was done asking questions, it somehow made hearing the cold hard facts a little less embarrassing. 'Did Josie see the whole thing?' I winced.

'No . . . she didn't see a thing. Luckily.'

'What?!' I asked, head rushing like mad from popping my head up too quickly. 'She didn't see anything?!'

'Nope. '

'But I don't understand . . . why did he go looking for her?'

'Don't know' she shrugged. 'Guilt maybe? Luckily Josie was on bar duty most of the night.'

'But that's awful. Her whole world was turned upside down last night and she doesn't even know?'

'No offence Jen.' Poppy smiled at me condescendingly, 'but it was just a kiss.'

'I know but this thing between Scott and I has been simmering for yonks now.' I replied, sounding way too defensive for my own liking.

'Yeah but it's not like you guys slept together. I mean two friends having a drunken kiss hardly constitutes a full blown affair now does it? For all we know, Scott may not even remember. He was pretty wasted.'

'Wow. That's a bit harsh.'

'What is?'

'Saying he might not remember, he did actually like me once you know.'

'' Yeah - ''Did'' being the operative word here.'

'Wow.' I said again, as if saying it the first time round was so impactful!

'I really don't understand you sometimes Jen. The guy chases you for like a whole year –'

'Two.'  I corrected her. God. . . not even I could stand my own smugness!

'Whatever, the point is the moment he becomes unattainable you go in for the kill! What's up with that?'

And just like that . . . another batch of tears filled my eyes. (Cue yet MORE sobbing).

Urgggggggh.

It sucked that Poppy was right about everything (her diplomacy skills sucked even more) but I couldn't fault her honesty. And believe me, the words ''honesty'' and ''LA'' rarely ever go into the same sentence.

She really was one in a million.

'Look,' she said, budging right up next to me on the sofa, thankfully her eyes had softened out and she no longer looked like a cat with a stick shoved up her backside. 'Why don't you stay here for a few days? I really think you need some time to de-compress. We can hangout, consume unhealthy amounts of ice cream, drink beer from the bottle and basically dwell on how crap our lives are, it'll be fun!'

'That's really sweet of you Poppy, but I don't want to intrude. And anyway, if Josie does find out she will think you're taking sides.'

'Let her think whatever she wants. Besides, you're my best, best friend.'

'Best, best  friend?' I asked, managing to crack a smile through all the snot and tears. 'Is that even a thing?'

Leaping up from the sofa, she headed towards the kitchen and after a minute or two, returned with some serious heartbreak necessities. . . Hershey's peanut butter cups, XL bag of chilli heat wave Dorito's and of course . . . season 6 of Dawson's Creek.

I felt heaps better already.