Welcome to Corbet's Inlet, North Carolina, where the teenagers act like adults and the adults act like teenagers. It's Griffin Connolly's favorite place in the world. And while she may not be good at making decisions when it comes to her own life, s...
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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.
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