When Griffin woke up the next morning (afternoon), the moral hangover was worse than the physical one.
Alcohol did this to her sometimes—she'd wake up after a night of partying to a full-blown anxiety attack. Her heart would thunder around against her ribcage, and she'd have the overwhelming feeling that everything was wrong, somehow, even if she couldn't fully remember what went down eight hours prior. Then she'd spend the entire day trying to piece together what happened to prove that maybe she hadn't done anything to panic about.
Griffin rolled onto her back now and pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to recap what the hell happened last night. A Gatorade and some Advil would've been nice for the montage. Her brain felt like it was still steeped in tequila, and if she moved any more than she had to, she'd probably make herself sick.
She remembered the disaster that was the family dinner before she went to Matty's.
She remembered driving Matty's golf cart back to his place after he came to get her because they'd all started drinking without her.
She remembered the entire party singing 'Happy Birthday' to her when she walked in... Being irritated with Charlie and Mary Kyle right off the bat... And, yikes, obnoxiously quoting Star Wars all night... Losing on the last cup in beer pong with Drew Sardis to freaking Charlie and Mary Kyle... And ugh, Drew roping her into sitting by the pool with their feet in the water for another lengthy tennis conversation.
After that, everything blurred.
She was pretty sure at one point she paraded around the party on Matty's back, screaming the words to "Party in the USA." There had definitely been way too many tequila shots off the Barnes' expensive patio table with Lauren. She'd talked all night about how she was going to California for—
Sudden, gut-wrenching panic slammed into Griffin.
She and Lauren had gotten into a huge fight last night. Griffin was pretty sure she'd told Lauren to leave. Like, kicked her out??
Griffin sat up on her bed and frantically searched for her phone. Where the hell was it? Did she leave it at Matty's? She needed to text Lauren now. Right now. She was probably already in California, right?
Griffin checked her bedside table, then dug underneath all her pillows, knocking most onto the floor.
Why did she let herself get so drunk last night? She couldn't even remember getting back to her house, but she did remember how much of a brat she was—
Griffin froze as another quick, terrifying snippet of a flashback zipped through her head. More pieces of the conversation blazed in behind it. She threw her covers off and barely made it to the bathroom to empty what was left in her stomach.
Griffin put on her hangover uniform and went over to Matty's house.
Gym shorts. Dry shampoo. Oversized t-shirt. Zero makeup. Biggest pair of sunglasses she owned. It'd become such a staple in her Corbet's partying routine over the past couple of years, she hadn't thought twice about it before she left.
She was definitely thinking about it now, though, as she unlatched Matty's patio gate. She hoped to God Charlie and Evan weren't still around.
"It's the birthday girl!" Evan immediately announced from a gigantic pink flamingo float in the middle of the pool. Griffin's stomach barreled up into her throat.
"Morning," she said, allowing herself to step closer to the edge.
Matty was lying face-down on a nearby pool chair and could barely lift his head up. "It's two p.m.," he croaked, sunglasses crooked on his face.
Thank God for Griffin's own sunglasses, because there Charlie was, parked next to Matty in the same chair Griffin had fallen asleep on last night. He had his wayfarers on, and also, he was shirtless. Griffin wanted die right there in her three-sizes-too-big T-shirt.
"Is my phone here?" she asked Matty.
He groaned incoherently.
Charlie folded his hands behind his head and said, "Pretty sure it's over there on the bar."
Griffin couldn't get herself to fully look at him. "Thanks," she mumbled, heading across the patio.
Sure enough, her phone was exactly where Charlie said it was. It was dead, but luckily the outdoor kitchen was under an awning so it hadn't roasted in the sun all day.
On her way back to the pool, Griffin passed by the gate leading down to the Barnes' private boardwalk. She glanced out past the end of the pier, toward the ocean, and a tiny inkling of a memory tickled the back of her mind. She tried, but she couldn't quite grab onto it.
Had she gone out there last night?
"That party was definitely one for the books," Evan said. Griffin sat on the edge of the pool stairs and put her feet in the water. "You have fun, Griff?"
"From what I can remember."
"Thatta girl." Matty gave her a limp thumbs up from his chair. "I'm regretting the amount of fun I had last night..."
Evan smirked and put his hands behind his head, mirroring Charlie. "I'm sure you are. That girl Mary Kyle brought was begging for it from you, dude."
"No, Ev," Matty sighed, "she wasn't."
Griffin stifled a laugh.
"Wait, you guys didn't hook up?" Evan lurched over on his float and started paddling toward the edge of the pool. "Then where'd you disappear to last night?"
"Couldn't tell you," Matty said morosely, and it was the sad look on his face that triggered everything to come rushing back to Griffin.
Matty. Making out with some guy at the end of the pier after the party.
"I'm worried about you, man," Evan said, giving up on his float. He rolled off into the water, while Griffin frantically tried to piece together what else she saw last night. "You get so many prospects and never follow through. The last time I heard about you and anyone was when you and Griffin made out last summer. And Truth or Dare's don't even count."
Griffin froze, her hangxiety surging.
Even with how much it'd helped with Matty's facade, their random drunken dare last summer was not something Griffin was prepared to have openly discussed in front of Charlie right now.
"Why doesn't that count?" Matty asked. "You were the one who dared us, Evan!"
Evan laughed. "Yeah, because I didn't think y'all would actually do it!"
Griffin's pulse roared in her ears. It was kind of hard to breathe. Charlie hearing about this really shouldn't matter, right? Obviously nothing was going on between her and Matty. She just...didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea here. Griffin was always down to party, but random hookups and meaningless sex weren't her thing. She hadn't even had sex yet to begin with...
"Yo, Griff."
She looked over at Matty.
"What time did you leave last night? You were out cold on a pool chair when everyone started to head out."
Griffin's cheeks went hot. "I, uh, just woke up and left. Not sure what time it was. Hey, can I borrow a phone charger?"
It was the first excuse she could think of to get Matty alone for a second. She needed to ask him about the mystery guy from the end of the pier.
"Yeah, there's one in my room," he said.
"OK..." Griffin said. "Wanna show me where it is?"
Matty still didn't move. "You know where my room is, Griff. You've been in there a million times."
She walked over and shoved at his shoulder. "Just—come on."
He sighed dramatically, but still got up. Griffin made sure to stare at the ground all the way inside.
Matty's house was stupid big. And decorated by some high-end interior designer Mrs. Barnes had flown in from New York when they built the house. Griffin remembered her mom gushing about it back when Griffin still went to brunch with her mother at the club.
Lavish drapes framed every window. Expensive throw pillows decorated even more expensive pieces of furniture. Appliances still looked brand new from lack of use. The Steinway grand piano in the foyer was never played, because no one in the Barnes family knew how. It was sad how often Matty was in this giant house by himself.
Griffin followed him up the curved staircase into his room. Maybe he didn't even remember what happened last night? He was just as drunk—probably more drunk than Griffin was, right? Oh, God. She hoped whoever it was would keep his secret.
Matty unplugged a white iPhone charger from behind his nightstand. "Don't steal this, it's my only one," he said, holding it out to her. The cord swung limply between them.
"Matty."
"Yeah?"
He looked exhausted. His hair was flattened to his head on one side from lying on the pool chair, and his eyes had dark bags underneath them that made them look sunken in.
Griffin took the charger from him and tossed it on the bed. "I don't actually need this. I needed a reason to get you away from Evan and Charlie for a second."
"What? why?"
"Who were you out with at the end of the pier last night?"
Matty stilled for moment, eyebrows knitted together. "You saw that? I thought you were asleep."
"Welp, I wasn't..."
He looked embarrassed.
"No, this is fine," Griffin said, her thoughts getting ahead of her. "You don't have to tell me, but was it at least someone who can keep their mouth shut about it? Or do we need to start doing damage control?"
"He's definitely not gonna say anything, Griff," Matty said.
"How can you be sure, though?"
"Because he'd get fired if anyone found out."
Griffin felt her eyes get big.
"You were making out with your boss?!" she hissed, half-shocked, half-impressed. Matty had only mentioned his crush to her once and then never really brought it up again. Griffin just assumed it'd fizzled out. "Holy shit, Matty!"
Matty flushed harder, but there was more worry on his face now than anything.
"Wait, are you OK?" Griffin asked. "What happened?"
"Yeah. I'm fine," he said. "It's just—I fucking humiliated myself last night."
"What? How?"
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked at the floor. "I drunkenly blew Cutter's phone up last night like some needy-ass little college kid and kept pestering him to come over. I think he finally did just to get me to shut up."
Cutter—Tyson Cutter. That was his name. The assistant golf pro.
Griffin tried to look optimistic. "I mean...it doesn't sound like you embarrassed yourself too much if he ended up coming over, right?"
Matty frowned some more. "No—just...I don't know. He was out with his friends last night too, and I don't think he would've come if he hadn't already been drinking, you know? He's probably at the pro shop right now freaking the fuck out because he hooked up with his nineteen-year-old intern."
"Wait, you guys hooked up? Like, hooked up hooked up?" Griffin asked.
(In all honesty, though, she didn't know what all that phrase included. She'd heard conflicting reports.)
"No, not, like, hooked up hooked up," he said, sounding hassled, "but there was definitely more going on than just making out. If anyone hears about it, he'll probably get fired, and I definitely won't be able to live with myself."
He looked so ashamed.
"Matty, is this, uh, maybe more than just a crush?" she asked carefully. Matty hated when people pitied him—which happened a lot, since it wasn't exactly a secret his parents weren't around much. He always called himself a walking rich kid cliché.
"Honestly, Griff, it doesn't even matter anymore because I'm pretty sure I ruined it last night."
"Why do you keep saying that? He could be at the pro shop right now thinking about how he can't wait to see you again."
Matty snorted.
"I'm serious!" Griffin pressed. She'd never seen Matty act this way before. She didn't understand what was causing it. "He could be pumped you made the first move."
"Maybe."
"Seriously, I think—"
"Look, Griff," Matty interrupted. Not rudely. Just...defeated. "I really appreciate you talking to me about this, but I just want to leave it alone for a bit. Let it sink in some more before I go in for my shift tomorrow."
She nodded. "OK."
"For real, though. I appreciate it."
"Anytime. I mean it" she said, and she did. She wanted to be there for him, to be a good friend.
Which reminded her.
Another wave of anxiety rolled through her.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Griffin said to Matty on the way back downstairs. "I was a complete asshole to Lauren last night."
"I heard," Matty said over his shoulder. "Charlie said something about the two of you getting into it this morning."
Griffin felt the slightest prick of irritation.
"So what happened?" he asked.
They rounded into the living room toward the patio.
"She just kept talking," Griffin said, "like, would not stop, about how she was leaving for California. I snapped at her about it after, like, six tequila shots."
Matty dragged open the sliding glass door for her. "Yeah, she was kinda treating your party like it was her own going away party. Especially since she'll be back in a week. Pretty annoying."
"Thank you," Griffin said, relieved he'd picked up on that vibe too. She still felt guilty about it, though. Sh'd probably feel the same way as Lauren if she'd grown up in Corbet's. It was an escape for Griffin, but for Lauren, it was a tiny island she'd outgrown years ago.
When Griffin and Matty walked back out to the patio, Charlie and Evan were in the pool, drinking beers that were probably left over from the party. More dread filtered through Griffin. She remembered talking to Charlie a lot last night—she just couldn't remember most of what was said. And she wasn't about to stick around now in case he decided to bring something up.
Matty ran and front-flipped into the deep end (which was surprisingly lithe for how hungover he claimed to be). Griffin waited for him to surface to let them know she was heading out.
"What? why? You just got here," Evan complained.
"I have to be at the tennis hut at five," Griffin said. "Later."
"Hey! Chuck and I might stop by later for a game," Evan called after her.
Griffin unlatched the patio gate. "I'll check the court time sheet and text you."
She really hoped it was full by the time she clocked in.
A/N: Thoughts? Theories?
*The OG draft of this chapter was split into two chapters as of May 2020. I apologize for any confusion!
* * *
Copyright © 2023 by Alex Evansley
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