Home > Connected (Broken #2)(58)

Connected (Broken #2)(58)
Author: A. E. Murphy

Taping it to the underside of a drawer this time, I curl up on my bed and cry silent tears. Does Nathan know? No… I don’t think he does. Which makes this so much more sick and twisted.

Why did I watch? Why couldn’t I have left myself oblivious?

“Now what do I do?” I whisper, my voice breaking with my sorrow.

You leave it and you help Nathan move on. You take care of him. Just like he’s done for you. My conscience tells me and for once I agree with it.

But first, I need to calm down.

 

Gwen: Drinks later?

 

Sasha: On a Monday??? Hell yeah!

 

I feel bad for leaving Dillan. We had a good weekend, despite my constant sulk with the world. I really need to stop feeling sorry for myself. The situation isn’t going to change. Caleb isn’t coming back and that’s that. I find myself thinking about our time together with a smile rather than tears. This is definitely an improvement.

Mum doesn’t seem to mind. She’s having a night in with George, who, I have to admit, is lovely and strikingly handsome. He’s also a police officer. My mum met him when he apologised for knocking her out of the way while chasing a thief down the high street. He’s charming, funny and he’s completely different to the men she’s brought home in the past.

I like him, but she doesn’t need my approval, although she seems to want it.

Kissing my little boy’s fuzzy head, I give my mum a wave and meet Sasha at the door.

“You look hot,” she grins, scanning me from head to toe. I tug on the bottom of my cream netted dress and repeat the same to her. She does look hot, as usual. I wish I had her style and her wardrobe. “Just you and me tonight. You look like you need some girl on girl time.”

I blink, laughing at her slip up.

“You know what I mean.” She giggles with me, slapping my arm. “Shots first?”

“Hell yeah.” The thought of alcohol makes me feel sick, but I need to start living again if I want to improve. Alcohol first, then I can move on to less self-destructive things that don’t take me away from my son. Fingers crossed this works.

 

We squeeze our way to the bar and Sasha, not that it’s a surprise, orders four shots. I stare at the pee coloured fluid in the shot glasses and cringe as I pick one up.

“Let’s get this party started!” She grins, winking at the guy working behind the bar.

On three… one, two… three.

I tip my head back and swallow the sour fluid. Unfortunately it tries to escape and makes me gag. Sasha doesn’t give me time to recover before she’s forcing me to drink the next and is handing me a glass of coke to chase it down.

“That’s my girl,” she laughs, patting me on the back and ordering drinks that don’t require immediate consumption.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“And you’ve become a hermit. Let’s party.”

I follow her onto the dance floor and stand awkwardly as she moves around me, trying to coax me into moving with her. This was a really bad idea.

“Hey, I never did say I was sorry for our last conversation,” she shouts into my ear, forgetting that even though the beat of the music is extremely loud, I’m not drunk and therefore my hearing is not impaired.

“It’s fine,” I respond, shouting back so she knows how it feels. “I swear, it’s over with.”

She smiles gratefully and then smiles at someone over my shoulder. I look back and smile with her.

“Surprise,” Tommy laughs, wrapping me in his big arms.

“Oh my god,” I squeal and hold him as tight as possible.

My gang, back together.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?”

Need he ask?

 

******

 

“It won’t stop,” I cry, heaving again and cringing at the sound of the splatter on the pavement. “Why won’t it stop?”

“UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES, THERE’S A… what’s next?” Sasha slurs, dancing around my puking form.

“Cock!” Tommy responds, going as far as to grab his package in the middle of the street.

My head spins and swims, my eyes trying to focus on anything, but they fail miserably and I stagger two steps to the side. “I need to go home.”

“I need to dance!” Sasha giggles, still dancing around me.

“I need to fuck.” Tommy laughs, grabbing hold of a very drunk Sasha around the waist.

“Awkward,” I say in a sing song voice and take a few steps towards the nearest wall. My legs don’t appreciate the demands my brain is making and I fall to the floor in a laughing heap. “Oh my god. Why did I drink so much? I’m going to be so hung over tomorrow.”

“Can you understand what she’s saying?” Tommy asks Sasha, who is grinding against him playfully.

“Something about not drinking enough.” Her eyes light up. “More shots!”

I pull out my phone. I need to call a taxi. Oh dear, six missed calls.

My phone screen lights up as another call comes through and I answer. “Call me back, I need to get a taxi.”

“Where are you?”

It’s Nathan! “Guys, Nathan’s on the phone!”

“Tell him to bring shots!”

“Gwen,” he snaps. His voice hurts my ear. “Where are you?”

“I’ll… oops.”

Sasha starts cackling and grabs me by the arm, pulling me from the ground once more.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I hear Nathan’s voice travel through the speaker.

“Yes,” I say, laughing when I realise the phone is upside down. “Sorry, I fell over.”

“Again!” Sasha cackles, looping her arm through mine. “Are you coming out, Nathan?”

“Where are you?” He demands angrily.

“You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“Gwen, so help me god, if you don’t tell me where you are right this minute…”

“I’m on the high street, I think.” I look at the blurred street name, tilting my head from side to side, trying to see the words but not managing it in the slightest. “Yeah.”

Oh dear. I drop my phone and my bag and lean over a wall.

Splat.

I don’t feel well Mummy.

“We need to get her home.” Sasha picks up my bag and clumsily rubs my back.

“Did you call a taxi?” Tommy asks, wrapping his arm around my waist as I finish vomiting.

“Shit, where’s my phone?”

“In your bag.”

Before I can grab it, we’re stuck in bright headlights as a car clumsily pulls onto the pavement. We all scream like lunatics and I end up on my arse again, this time with Sasha on top of me. She starts laughing, Tommy tries pulling us up and I decide to lie down for a second.

A car door slams and I’m vaguely aware of Sasha’s weight leaving me and warm hands cupping my face. “How much did she drink?”

“Hi.” I smile at Nathan, giggling when I see his frown.

“No more than us.” Tommy shrugs, taking hold of Sasha.

“Get in the car.” Nathan orders the both of them.

“Nah, it’s cool, we only live on the next street.”

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