Crushed

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Oh god. Kill me now.

The morning light felt like lasers trying to penetrate my eyeballs. Where, oh where was the bus that had hit me. I was face down on what was fortunately a comfortable surface that was definitely not my bed. Bed like, perhaps even a bed belonging to someone else, but definitely not the cloud like pillow top I'd been sleeping on at Cathy's house. I was, however, cosy warm under a duvet. What was most concerning was the way I couldn't move my left arm, or my legs. For that matter my entire body seemed to be pinned in place. I opened my eyes to see I was face down on what appeared to be a day bed in a pool cabana. No one was in sight but I could recognise Matt and Val's pool area. Fortunately I could move my head, which I did slowly and carefully not entirely certain if my brains would rattle loose.

Fuck... FUCK... FUCK!

Brian was beside me snoring softly using my crooked arm as a pillow and the rest of my body as some kind of human body pillow. His arm was thrown across the centre of my back and a leg was thrown across my legs.

What the hell had happened? My mind spun through scenarios and brief flashes of memory penetrated with a clarity that made me cringe.

Wine, wine and more wine. Oh god...and shots. Who had that idea? Oh yeah. Fuck you Zacky.

Brian and Matt emerging from the depths of the house. Clearly Matt did have the good liquor hidden away. They were both glazed of eye and buoyant of humour.

"Brian I'm sorry man," drunkenly slurred Zacky.

"No I'm sorry man."

"I love you man."

"No I love you!"

Drunken hugs. Possible manly tears. Female bonding watching the man tears.

Then "We need shots to repair the mutual hurt."

And... oh god... more shots.

What an absolute cluster fuck.

How the fuck had I ended up as Brian's pillow?

"Brian there is no way you are driving home." Jesus Val was shrill when she was drunk.

"Fine but I need a smoke." Of course he did, fucking Marlboro man.

"Not in my house!" That was one level away from only being possible for dogs to hear.

"Urgh. Stick it up your arse and smoke it cancer man." I grumbled as I completed a perfect belly flop onto a day bed. A body had thudded down beside me and the acrid aroma of tobacco had filled my nostrils.

"You're a light weight Ace."

"Not all of us can party like rockstars. Thank you for your consideration Mr Gates."

A duvet puffed down on us with a huff of air.

"Thank Val, she's the one that's just made sure you don't freeze your ass off tonight."

"So she should. She's the one that got me drunk. And Zacky...fucking Zacky."

"Thanks for not running away screaming tonight."

"Run? You think I could have run? I can barely fucking walk!" I joked as alcohol and the remnants of jet lag dragged my eyes closed and pulled me into sleep and another crazy arse dream about turtles and insolent ducks.

Now the daylight had a vendetta against me and the memories of the previous evenings shenanigans were not helping me with the sick feeling churning in my stomach. I pulled my arm free from beneath Brian's head and gave it a shake to stimulate the circulation. He gave a pitiful groan. Ha! Party like a rockstar huh? Sure, and recover like a thirteen year old girl after a six pack of wine coolers. Okay yes, I knew what that felt like because I had been that thirteen year old girl.

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