Broke, brokenhearted, and damn near homeless, Jennica Frost can't seem to catch a break. But when she moves back into her childhood home and takes a job at her Mother's antique store, life begins to get really bizarre. Can a ragtag group of mystical...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's the heat of the summer sun on my face that wakes me up. I stifle a groan as I open my eyes. My vision is a little blurry still, but even so, I can tell that there is nothing about the ceiling above me that looks even vaguely familiar.
I close my eyes again and reach behind my head for the pillow. It's as lumpy as all hell when I bring it down onto my face to cover my eyes.
And good fucking god, what is that smell?
The bed shifts around me, before that unmistakable sound, meets my ears.
*phut phut phut...PHURRRRUPT*
Jesus Christ.
I take a deep breath and smoosh the pillow down harder against my nose. I have to bite back the gag I feel when I realize that sound was most definitely a fart, and it was most definitely not one of mine.
I'm wide awake now, and frantically digging through the fog of my hangover, trying desperately to pull up any memories from last night.
Think Jennica! Think!
I remember walking into my apartment and seeing Chris, my dipshit boyfriend of three years, on his knees, gagging on a mouthful of our landlord's cock. Diego is his name- the landlord, not his cock- and that's the one thing from last night that I'd love to forget. But, alas, here we are.
From there, I drove to my best friend Ariel's house and after convincing her not to go and burn down my apartment, with Chris and Diego still in it, I know we got to drinking, called an Uber, and hit the town. Shit gets a little patchy from there though.
Shots. I remember taking shots. So many shots. And I almost chuckle when I remember holding Ariel's hair back as she barfed on the bartender and his bar. I'm pretty sure we were kicked out shortly after that, but everything else just comes up blank. Needless to say, it wasn't my best Friday night, and from where I lay right now, it went downhill a fuck of a lot faster than I would have imagined.
The sound of a low moan drags me out of the racing thoughts in my head and back to reality. My current situation, though less than ideal, is an entirely escapable one, if I just move slowly and sneakily.
I take a deep breath and remove the pillow from my face, letting it fall to the floor beside me. Quietly, I sneak a peek under the covers and am a little taken aback when I see the well-worn t-shirt clinging to my chest, and for a second I wonder who the hell it belongs to. I pull it away from my body to take a good look at it; is that Batman? I need to find my clothes and my phone, and I need to find them now.
I'm just about to pull the covers off and slip out of bed when I feel someone rolling over beside me. I bite my lip and hold my breath.
Please don't be awake. For the love of God, please don't be awake.
