Sadly Mistaken

Did You Just Compare Me To Your Mom?

[Chapter 4]
Did You Just Compare Me To Your Mom?

"Bree, can you tickle my cheeks?" I giggle, and run around her car. I feel Bree's hand grab me to make me stop running. I giggle again.

"Why does your grip hurt so much?" I laugh and try to pull from her grip.

Bree makes a face, and lessens her grip. "Kat, you're drunk."

"I am?" I laugh and clap my hands. I look at Bree and she isn't clapping along with me. She guides me to the passenger seat, and then takes her seat. "I don't think I'm drunk."

"Whatever floats your boat Kat."

"I love boats! Especially the ones with the-"

"Kat, please be quiet. I'm trying to get us back home without crashing into a tree."

"You said I should live and experience things, isn't that what I just did?" I manage to say as I shuffle into the passenger seat. I feel like the ground is shaking below me, and I can't even concentrate clearly. Bree crosses her arms.

"I'm going to take you home to my place tonight. I don't think your mom would be overly enthusiastic about you being in this condition." Bree says as she drives, and ignores my statement.

"Okay Bree-Bree." I say, and lean my forehead against the window. The last thing I remember is leaving Dean in shock on the bench, and me laughing my ass off as I left. After that I just found another bench and drank at least three more bottles of beer alone. My head feels like it's spinning, and I just want to sleep. When Bree finally pulls into her driveway, she guides me into her house.

"Can I have four pickles and a boiled egg Bree-Bree?" I whisper as I'm trying to break free from Bree's crab-like grip.

"No Kat! It's almost one in the morning. Besides, you'll puke it up in the morning, and I'll have to clean it up. No thank you." She whispers back.

"You're just like my mom. No fun at all." I whine, and Bree's eyes grow half as large as usual.

"Katherine! My parents are sleeping upstairs! Do you want them to find out we just went to a party and you are extremely drunk?" She whisper yells at me, and then pauses for a second. "Did you just compare me to you're mom?"

"That's a minor detail Bree-Bree." I reply.

"Let's just get you to bed before you catch my house on fire."

~~~~

I wake up around seven, and stare straight up at a ceiling that isn't mine. I look around the room and see that it's Bree's room. Bree is sleeping on the blowup mattress and is out cold. As I walk out of bed to wake her up, a pang of nausea hits me. Hard. I sprint to the bathroom and hurl out all of the food I've eaten in the last 12 hours. I find it hard to believe that people enjoy drinking massive amounts if alcohol only to puke it all out on a regular basis.

I turn around, only to see Bree standing at the door.

"You okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm starting to get a huge hangover though."

"Probably should have mentioned that before the party started."

"That would have been helpful. But what's done is done," I tell her. "But Bree?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't make me go to another party ever again."

~~~~