Where My Reputation Don’t Proceed Me
Neon singer with a jukebox title full of heartbreak
Thirty-three, forty-five, seventy-eight
When it hurts this good you gotta play it twice
Another vice
All dressed up in a pretty black label
Sweet salvation on a dining room table
Waiting on me
Where the numb meets the lonely
It’s gone before it ever melts the ice
Another vice, another call
Another bed I shouldn’t crawl out of
At seven a.m. with shoes in my hand
Said I wouldn’t do it, but I did it again
And I know I’ll be back tomorrow night, oh
The next thing Carolina knew was the feeling of sunlight hitting the side of her body. She realized with a jolt that she was in nothing but her underwear and barely covered by the hotel bed’s blanket. How that had happened, she really couldn’t say. There was no pillow under her head.
She slowly, carefully pulled herself out of the bed and padded to the bathroom. She ignored the pile of pillows and sheets she passed, forcing herself not to acknowledge the obvious stains on them. Bits and pieces of the night before were coming back, although it was still in a haze, like it had happened to someone else. It was strange; she never blacked out like that. Then again, she never drank quite like that, either.
The bathroom light was harsh, but Carolina forced herself to blink her way through a quick shower. It took all of her energy, and afterward, she found herself on the bathroom floor again, although she did nothing more than cough.
“Well, you’re alive,” Laura said, appearing at the bathroom door.
Carolina pulled her towel closed and struggled to her feet. “Barely. I don’t even… that never happens. I’m sorry you had to deal with it. I feel like shit on multiple levels.”
“It’s what I do. I’m the mom friend.” Laura eyed her. “Do you think you’ll be up for getting breakfast before we leave town?”
“I think so. I feel a little better now. Cleaner, at least.”
By the time she had brushed her teeth, pulled on an outfit and smeared a little makeup on her face, Carolina at least looked human. She truly did feel better, although she couldn’t honestly claim to be back to one hundred percent. It was close enough.
“Oh, I had to take these from you,” Laura said, holding up a pack of birth control pills as Carolina worked to pack up the rest of her things. “You were adamant that you had to take it, but I knew you would just throw it up anyway.”
“Sexually responsible even when suffering alcohol poisoning,” Carolina remarked, flipped the pack open. “Looks like I managed to take it anyway. I think. I missed a day last week so I’ve been a day off anyway and I’m not sure about my math.”
Minutes later, the girls had stuffed their bags into their cars, checked out and were walking down the street to a diner Laura had spotted the day before. Carolina loved greasy diner food, but she was never sure why people thought it was the perfect hangover cure. The longer they sat at the table, surrounded by the smell of it, the worse she began to feel. When the waitress finally came to take their order, all she could manage to ask for was a glass of water and plain toast.
“I don’t know how I’m going to make it home,” Carolina said, picking at her toast. Just looking at the pad of butter that had come uninvited made her feel ill. “I didn’t think any of this through.”
“You don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?” Laura asked.
Carolina shook her head. “No, I did at least think to request it off so I’d have time to recover. I just didn’t realize I’d have so much to—”
She couldn’t finish the thought. Without another word, she tossed her dry toast back onto the plate and scurried off toward the bathroom. It didn’t look all that clean, but she didn’t have a choice. She yanked her hair back and bent over the toilet, hoping the room was at least somewhat soundproof.
When she walked back out and sat down, she had a plan. It wasn’t a good one, but she was desperate. Her hands shaking, she pulled her phone from her purse and, without looking up to see the disapproval that was sure to be on Laura’s face, she said, “I’m going to text Taylor.”
“And say what?”
“Just see if he’s busy. Maybe I can crash there, at least for a while. It’s six hours to get home from here. I can’t do it, Laura. No way. Not the way I feel.” She didn’t glance up as she typed a message, hoping to sound flirty and play off just how much she felt like death.
“You don’t want him to see you like this,” Laura replied.
Carolina looked up. “I don’t care how he sees me. He’s literally seen every part of me—hungover and sick doesn’t matter. I’m past the point of caring about impressing him or anything, and it’s not about that anyway. You don’t know how awful I feel.”
“Do you think maybe you should be in the hospital instead?”
“As much as I’ve thrown up, there’s nothing they could do but give me fluids. Not to make it sound like this is a habit or anything, but I’ve been through this before, once—in college. And I haven’t been able to drink like that since then, but I guess I forgot that last night.”
Laura gave her a look as Carolina sat her phone on the table and willed herself not to watch for the screen to light up. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I don’t think I have any other options.”
“I know, I just—do what you think is best. I just want you to be safe.”
Carolina’s phone lit up. She picked it up and read the screen before looking back at Laura. “Well, he says I can come on over any time. I’ll stay until you’re done eating, but I’m going over there.”
“Text me later and let me know how it goes? And how you’re feeling?”
“Of course.”
There was a blue truck in Taylor’s driveway, and something almost clicked in Carolina’s mind. The driveway slopped downhill to the house’s basement, and she stopped at the top of the slope. Her phone had buzzed on the way over, but she had to focus too much on driving, her head spinning and the lines on the road seeming to blur, to see who was texting her. Even when she had pulled over to empty her stomach again out the car door, she hadn’t looked at her phone. She picked her phone up from the passenger seat and saw that the message was from Taylor.
She remembered then; the truck parked at the bottom was Zac’s. She put her car back in drive and followed Taylor’s instructions. She sent him a quick text to let him know she was there, then stuffed her phone back into her purse and stepped out of her car. Just as she began to walk up toward the front door, Zac emerged from the basement, his arms loaded down with a large moving box. A lock of hair had fallen from his ponytail and seemed to obscure her from his vision. To be on the safe side, Carolina scurried on up the hill, her head down. She couldn’t say why, but she knew without a doubt that she did not want Zac to know that she was there.
Taylor was already waiting on the front step, and he gave Carolina a small smile and a nod when she rounded the corner.
“Hey,” she said, awkwardly stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Come in on,” he said, nodding toward the door. With a soft chuckle he added, “Party a little too much last night?”
“Something like that,” she replied.
Carolina walked into the house ahead of Taylor, vaguely noticing small changes in décor. The living room was arranged somewhat differently from what she remembered. Zac really was moving out, she thought. Taylor leaned over her to open his bedroom door, and Carolina tossed her purse to the side. She kicked her shoes off as she walked, then collapsed face first onto his bed, not caring how she looked.
“You really weren’t kidding,” Taylor laughed out. “Just sacking right out, huh?”
Carolina rolled over to look up at him. “I told you. I think this is probably about the second worst hangover I’ve ever had, and the first one I woke up in the hospital.”
Taylor just gave her a look and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m going to get in the shower. You have fun with your nap.”
“I will,” Carolina replied.
Taylor just laughed again and walked out of the room, his towel slung over his shoulder.
Carolina rolled over and pulled his covers up over her body, not even caring that she was still wearing all of her clothes. Her jeans weren’t all that comfortable, but that was the least of her concerns right then. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up with the weekend having happened completely differently.
Still, she was in Taylor’s bed again, and that was a success in and of itself. As she felt herself drifting off to sleep, she resolved to ignore the bad circumstances and her own stupid choices that had led her there.
Some time later–she couldn’t have even begun to guess how much time had passed–the sound of footsteps woke her. Carolina had never been a heavy sleeper, and even being hungover didn’t seem to change that. She rolled over, and saw that Taylor had dropped his towel as he stood in front of his closet and surveyed his options. His back was to her, but she didn’t mind; the view was just as good that way. Through half-open eyes, she stared, wondering how she had gotten so lucky.
Pure, dumb luck, she reminded herself.
In a matter of seconds, he was dressed and gone. Carolina stretched to reach her purse where she had dropped it and pulled out her phone; a quick check revealed that it was still early in the afternoon. She could leave and make it home before it was absurdly late, but she wouldn’t. She rolled back over and closed her eyes again.
What felt like only minutes later, she heard footsteps again. This time, they were accompanied by the sound of Taylor’s voice, surprisingly near. Her eyes fluttered open and revealed Taylor standing over the bed. He wasn’t wearing pants; she could have sworn he had put on a pair while she had watched him like the creeper that she was.
“You know what, I’m feeling like taking a nap, too,” he said, as he crawled into bed next to her.
His body was warm, almost too warm, but Carolina could not have imagined moving. She curled up against his side and gave him a weak smile. Not knowing what to say, she simply closed her eyes again and sighed. Somehow, the weekend had not been a total loss, even though she felt like the worst possible version of herself. As long as she got to sleep with—or even just next to—Taylor, she could learn to be that version of herself again.