✅ A Dose of Humiliation

13. Consequences

"No no no no NO!" I wailed, flailing around and grasping for a handhold until I managed to half climb, half fall out of an unfamiliar bed. There were other people in the room too; one guy was passed out face down in a bean bag chair, and there was some pained moaning from someone else I'd woken.

"Somebody's awake?" Lin Parker queried, kicking the door wide and moonwalking joyfully into the room. It was then I remembered his mum was some kind of genius doctor who'd invented a hangover cure, and was expecting to be fantastically wealthy as soon as the regulatory testing had finished. It had been a sidebar in the local paper, but seeing how his attitude compared to the rest of us made me understand why it might be such a lucrative discovery. He stopped for a moment and looked me up and down. I was too embarrassed even to hide it.

"...aaaaand somebody's pissed herself. Get up and clean, people!"

I groaned. I'd heard that could happen to drunken people, but never thought I'd experience it myself. I'd seriously thought I might get through my entire life without getting drunk, which had always looked like a colossal waste of time with too many downsides. When they offered me the first shot last night I was sure I'd smelled spices, not alcohol, and I'd wondered what it would taste like. And maybe, after the worst day of my life, I'd considered that dulling my thoughts just a little might make it easier to avoid thinking about my parents. No, that wasn't true. I hadn't thought about it in so much depth. I'd accepted one drink, and then another. After that, I probably hadn't been thinking at all. I might have had fun, but I barely remembered it now. But it must have been better than thinking all evening about why my parents seemed to hate me so much now.

There was a big puddle in the middle of the bed. No denying it. And my skirt was soaked. I staggered out of the room and found a bathroom next door, but not before some girl I didn't even know had snapped a picture of my shame. A hot shower made me feel a lot more alive, as if the steam was stripping all of the negative thoughts off my skin as well as the smell of pee. I had to hurry, and the sound of mostly-male voices all over the house meant that the shower didn't have the usual contemplative mood.

There were fluffy towels on a heated rail; I was glad for the little bit of comfort. Then I had to work out what to do about clothes. My skirt was ruined. I didn't know where my socks were. There was a damp patch at the bottom of my top, and someone had apparently written their number on my shoulder in some kind of marker. The name was illegible.

I put the shirt on anyway, thinking that either my collar or a jacket would hide the marks. I came out of the bathroom with the rest of my clothes bundled up in front of me, hoping that there was a washing machine here with a super fast cycle.

"Get your clothes on," somebody called. "Call at your place to get something fresh. Can't hang around here."

"I can't..." I stammered.

"Did she puke?" somebody else asked, and got an answer "Nah, wet herself" before I could even judge who was talking. The whole house was a maelstrom of kids from fifteen to twenty trying to erase any trace of a party before Lin's parents returned, although the most popular activity among the athletic boys seemed to be standing around and yelling conflicting orders at two maids.

"Here," Serena handed me a bundle of clothes. "I brought spares. In case of something like this."

"This is a thing that happens?" I asked, realising again that I knew next to nothing about the wild parties frequented by peers who were richer, crazier, and more popular than most of my friends. But if alcohol could have such a strong effect on someone who wasn't expecting it, I guessed that it would be wise for anyone to bring a spare outfit. I ducked back into the bathroom to change. Serena was taller than me, and skinnier, but her school uniform fitted me without any problems. I didn't look nearly as good in it, but she had the kind of figure that could look good in anything.

"Thanks so much. I'll have to remember that in future. Change of clothes. I mean... if I come to a party like this again. I don't know if it's my scene." Then Iooked down and saw that I must be wearing Serena's own uniform. She had black leggings on, and a sparkly jacket that seemed to be nothing but sequins. Certainly not something that would be allowed. "Have you not got clean socks? I don't want you to get in trouble..."

"Trouble's something that happens to other people," she said with a smile as her car pulled up. I was glad to see that my school bag was still on the back seat, where I had left it. "I've never had a detention, even a lunchtime one, and I only wear the uniform if I can't decide."

That was news to me, but I thought I could remember her wearing accessories that certainly weren't allowed. She'd always just been a face in the crowd to me, not friendly enough to talk to but not hostile enough to be notable as one of the mean girls. I tried to think more, but it was still hard.

"Ugh..." I groaned. "Is this what a hangover feels like? I'll never drink again."

"Smart choice. When I was twelve I wanted a fancy party with celebrities, so Daddy booked a Vegas nightclub. Got wasted on tequila, and swore I'd never do it again. For all the effort they make trying to stop us, I think it'd be easier just to let everybody overdo it once."

"Yeah, probably. I mean, I heard people talk about a hangover, but I never imagined–"

"Oh, and you're not hung over," she said, looking at me inside the car as I tried to recover my composure enough to belt up.

"I feel pretty bad. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You're still drunk. First I wondered if you were picking up a speech impediment, but you don't sound like Marcie. And you're swaying too, but the coordination dose doesn't affect balance without a booster."

"You know a lot about those things, don't you?"

"I've read just about everything that's on their website. Before they decided that it's a better punishment if it's a surprise. I think it's pretty interesting the number of things they can do, but they manage to make it sound so boring. Like reading the old grey textbook we had for biology a few years back."

I nodded, and tried to remember what I had been saying a moment before.

"Okay, I'm drunk? I can't tell, but the movies already told me that's one of the symptoms. So what do I do? I mean, I know I shouldn't text my boyfriend, but I haven't got one, and even if I– Oh, crap! Where's my phone?"

The car stopped, and turned around. Serena was going to call my phone and see who picked up, but I couldn't remember my own number off the top of my head. It felt like my head was full of cotton candy, and the digits just wouldn't line up. So Serena called Elspeth, whose number she already had. After ten minutes of reassuring her that she hadn't been hitting on Marcie on Sunday, she asked Elspeth to text her my number. Then she called, and was unsurprised to find that it was one of the maids at the Parker house who answered. We turned around and drove back there, and a few minutes later I had my phone in my hand. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was fully charged as well; presumably the domestic staff had decided to put an unexpected phone on charge while they waited for a call to tell them who it belonged to.

"Right," I groaned, looking with horror at the time in the corner of the screen. "School. Ten minutes, I don't think it's possible. My parents are going to kill me."

"Relax, I got this. You're cool now, everybody loves you now they've seen you let your hair down. And it's time to show you how we do things."

Author's Note: That's all the Patreon rewards for this month posted, so unless someone else signs up we're back to one chapter per day for the rest of the month. Thank you all for helping me to keep doing this.
This isn't quite going how I expected; Lorna's life got a lot easier than I planned, but I think she deserves a break. Is it obvious what her punishment pill was?