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Lia has lots of ideas. She markets them all as fantastic. That doesn’t mean they’re all fantastic, and Cassie should really know that at this point.
“This was a bad idea,” Cassie frets as they weave their way through the crowd. It’s fortunately not a huge crowd, and Sloane’s white-blonde hair is pretty easy to spot.
“Yeah, I know,” Lia replies.
“Then why did you suggest it?” Cassie demands.
“Well, sue me,” Lia shoots back. “I didn’t realize it took that little for Sloane to get tipsy.”
Someone stumbles into Lia from behind, and Lia spins⎼⎼just in time to catch Sloane before she falls over. Sloane blinks up at her, her half smile loopy. She’s definitely drunk.
“Hey, genius,” Lia says. “How about some water?”
“I’ve been drinking water,” Sloane replies seriously. The serious effect is lost when she finishes with a giggle.
“Sure,” Lia says, rolling her eyes.
Cassie looks scandalized. “Sterling is going to kill you.”
“Not if she doesn’t find out,” Lia replies with a wink.
“She’s definitely going to find out.”
“Well, not with that attitude.”
“The stars are so pretty tonight,” Sloane notes.
“Those are ceiling lights,” Lia tells her. “We’re inside.”
Sloane squints at the ceiling, tilting her head to the side. “It’s the stars.”
Lia gives up. “Whatever you say, genius.”
Sloane leans backwards a little and points up at the ceiling. Lia grabs her shoulders in case she tips over. “You don’t see the constellations?”
“Oh, well, now that you say that, I definitely do.”
Sloane pouts. “I think you’re lying.”
Lia looks at Cassie. Cassie shrugs and mouths Your idea.
Sometimes that redhead can be really annoying.
“Okay,” Lia says. “Let’s get you home.”
Sloane blinks in surprise. “We are home.”
“No, we’re not.” Lia grabs Sloane’s wrist and starts pulling her towards the exit. “You need to sleep this off.”
“I don’t sleep,” Sloane replies, her words slurring together a little.
“You definitely do,” Cassie chimes in, bringing up the rear of the group. “We share a room, remember?”
“No we don’t.”
“Okay, not anymore,” Cassie amends. “But we used to share a room.”
Sloane stumbles and Lia spins to catch her. “Have you ever thought about penguins?” Sloane asks cheerfully, her head tipping backwards. “I think we should think more about penguins.”
“That sounds great,” Lia tells her. “You do that, and Cassie and I will get you home.”
“Didn’t you drink, too?” Cassie asks Lia. “Who’s going to drive?”
Lia raises her eyebrows meaningfully at Cassie.
“Oh, no,” Cassie says. “I’m not a good driver!”
Lia shrugs. “Don’t care. It’s either that or I risk a DUI.”
Cassie groans. “Fine. I’ll drive.”
Lia pulls Sloane out the exit, with Cassie trailing close behind. She lets go of Sloane’s wrist, and Sloane promptly stumbles into her.
Cassie levels a look at Lia. “See? Sterling’s going to know it.”
“Not if we can get Sloane in the house and directly to her room,” Lia emphasizes.
“What are the chances of that happening?” Cassie asks.
Sloane opens her mouth.
“You’re not aware enough of the situation to tell us that,” Lia reminds her.
Sloane closes her mouth and pouts again.
Lia scans the street. “Where the hell did I park?”
“I don’t know,” Sloane says, drawing spirals in the air with her finger.
“Thanks. Very helpful.”
“You’re welcome,” Sloane replies, drawing out the word.
Cassie snorts.
“Gotta say, I really did think Sloane would be an emotional drunk,” Lia notes. “This is actually amazing.”
“She won’t remember any of this tomorrow, will she?” Cassie asks.
“Yeah, she’ll have no idea.”
“I will,” Sloane defends.
“Mm-hm.” Lia goes back to scanning the street. “There we are. Let’s go, genius.”
“But this is fun!” Sloane says.
“You know what’s also fun?” Lia asks. “Going home and getting to sleep.”
“I don’t sleep,” Sloane repeats confidently.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Lia snatches Sloane’s wrist again and sets off down the street towards Michael’s car. Michael doesn’t know she borrowed his car, and hopefully he’ll never find out. If he does, Lia can just lie. As long as he doesn’t go to Cassie or Sloane.
They reach the car, and Lia tosses Cassie the keys. She opens the back door and gently pushes Sloane in, then climbs in behind her.
Cassie gets in the driver’s seat and eyes the two of them in the rearview mirror. “You’re not going shotgun?”
“Someone’s got to keep this girl upright,” Lia replies, pulling Sloane’s seatbelt on.
“I can do that,” Sloane insists.
“No, you can’t.” Lia pulls on her own seatbelt. “All good, Cass.”
Cassie starts the car and pulls away from the street. Sloane’s head promptly falls on Lia’s shoulder.
Lia nudges her back upright. “Don’t fall asleep yet, genius.”
“I’m not going to fall asleep,” Sloane replies, slouching in her seat and playing with the ends of her hair.
“Right. Because you don’t sleep. I forgot.”
“Let her sleep if she wants to,” Cassie chimes in.
“If she falls asleep, it’s definitely going to be harder to sneak in,” Lia argues.
“You could just tell people that she fell asleep in the car,” Cassie says. “Which would be true.”
“I’m not tired,” Sloane offers.
Lia raises her eyebrows at her. “We’ll see about that.”
Cassie pulls to a stop at a red light, and Sloane falls forward. Lia grabs the back of her shirt and hauls her back up.
“Stop,” Sloane says, trying to swat Lia’s hand away. She misses badly. “I’m immune to gravity.”
“No one is immune to gravity.”
In the front seat, Cassie snorts again.
“I am,” Sloane argues.
“This coming from the girl who’s fallen over at least five times in the span of five minutes.”
“That didn’t happen,” Sloane says, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.
“I’ve been the one catching you.”
“No,” Sloane replies, drawing out the word for at least fifteen seconds. “That was gravity. Because I’m immune.”
“Right,” Lia says. “You’re going to fall over the second you get out of the car.”
“Am not,” Sloane insists. “See?” She reaches for the car door, and Lia lunges to catch her wrist.
“Not yet,” Lia says. “The car is still moving, genius. You can’t get out yet.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” Sloane asks. Her eyes are still closed.
“That’s what I call you,” Lia explains, raising her eyebrows.
“Yeah, but why?”
“Are you really that drunk?” Lia asks. “Dear God.”
Sloane opens her eyes a crack. “I didn’t drink anything.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“I didn’t,” Sloane insists, her words slurring together. “Drink. Anything.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of this tomorrow when you have a killer hangover.”
“It is tomorrow,” Sloane says.
Lia checks her phone. It’s one a.m., which means technically Sloane is right. “Yeah, well, the next time you wake up, it could be anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours later.”
“I’m not sleeping that long,” Sloane argues.
“You might.”
“You should text the others,” Cassie suggests. “Maybe they can help with Sloane.”
“I don’t need help,” Sloane says firmly, tracing patterns on the window with her finger. Her hand slips away from the glass and falls unceremoniously into her lap.
Lia side-eyes her. “You definitely do.”
“You should text them,” Cassie repeats.
“Why, so all three of them can kill me on top of Sterling?”
“Say it was an accident and that we just lost Sloane. Which we did, so it’s not even lying.”
“What’s life without a little fun?” Lia replies. “And by fun, I mean lies.”
Cassie sighs. “You don’t need to lie about this, though.”
“I’ll text them,” Lia decides. “Might make my life easier.”
Thirty seconds later, Lia gets a call from Michael.
“You’re on speaker, Townsend,” Lia declares.
“Did you seriously take my car?” is the first thing out of his mouth.
“Really?” Dean’s voice mutters. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“Yes, we seriously did,” Lia replies, rolling her eyes. “Where are you?”
“Waiting outside,” Michael says. “Are you almost back?”
“Yes,” Cassie calls from the front seat.
“Where might the lovely Agent Sterling be?” Lia asks Michael.
“In her room, I guess,” Michael says.
“You didn’t confirm before you went outside?”
“You’re almost back,” Michael replies. “So it’s fine.”
“Not when all six of us are trying to get back into the house.” Lia peers up ahead. “I see you. I’m hanging up.”
Lia hangs up. Cassie peeks at her in the rearview mirror. “I can tell you’re a little drunk.”
Lia waves a hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Townsend gets drunk all the time.”
Cassie rolls her eyes and pulls into the driveway. Lia opens the car door, and Dean immediately descends on her, pulling her out of the car. “What were you thinking?” he asks.
“Oh, come on, Dean-o. You should know by now that I never think,” Lia replies conversationally.
Dean catches sight of Cassie getting out of the driver’s seat. “Cass, you weren’t drinking, were you?”
“I wasn’t,” Cassie replies. “Lia was.”
Lia rolls her eyes. “Wow, Cassie.”
Celine goes around to the other side of the car and lifts Sloane out. “Wow, you’re really out of it, aren’t you?” she asks.
Sloane lifts her arm and points at one of the streetlights. “You’re almost as pretty as this moon,” she says.
“That’s a street lamp.”
“And you’re almost as pretty,” Sloane says, her head tipping back against Celine’s shoulder.
Michael shakes his head. “And here I had her pegged as an emotional drunk.”
“So did I,” Lia says. “If it makes you feel better.”
Dean frowns. “How much did she drink?”
“No idea,” Cassie replies.
“What?”
“We sort of… lost her.” Cassie turns to Lia. “You didn’t include that?”
Lia shrugs. “I didn’t find it necessary.”
Cassie sighs.
“I think she just needs to sleep it off, though,” Lia continues. “It won’t be pretty in the morning, but I’ll just tell Sterling it’s a stomach bug or something.”
“And you think she’ll buy that?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow incredulously.
“It’s me,” Lia says. “Anyone will buy that.”
Celine scoops Sloane into her arms, and Sloane lets out a squeak. She gets over her surprise fairly quickly. “I can walk,” she insists, squirming in Celine’s arms.
“We’re trying to be sneaky here, and you keep falling over,” Lia reminds her.
“No I don’t.”
“You should have invited me,” Michael says. “This is hilarious.”
“Maybe next time,” Lia replies.
Dean glares at the two of them. “There’s not going to be a next time.”
The six of them creep back into the house and head straight for Sloane’s room. Cassie pauses in the bathroom to fill a cup with water. Celine sets Sloane down on the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asks Sloane.
Sloane lifts her hand and weakly waves it around. “You’re all… floating.”
“Sounds exciting.”
Sloane’s hand falls back onto the bed. “It’s not.”
“Drink some water,” Cassie suggests.
“I got this,” Lia says, taking the cup from Cassie and turning to Sloane. “Open your mouth.”
Sloane obliges, and Lia pours the water down her throat. Sloane coughs, but she doesn’t spit the water out or throw up, which Lia considers to be a win.
“Can you smell anything?” Dean asks.
Lia leans forward and sniffs Sloane’s breath. “Not much. She might not have actually drank that much.”
“I can see Sloane having a low tolerance,” Michael agrees.
“What do we do now?” Cassie asks.
“What are all of you doing up?” Agent Sterling’s voice asks.
They all turn in unison⎼⎼except for Sloane, who’s so out of it she can barely move⎼⎼to see Agent Sterling standing in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest and her eyebrows raised suspiciously.
Lia steps in. “Sloane’s not feeling good,” she says. “Might be a stomach bug or something.”
Agent Sterling’s expression softens immediately. It’s no secret that she has a soft spot for Sloane. “Any nausea?” she asks.
As if on cue, Sloane rolls onto her side and throws up onto the floor.
“Yes,” Lia says.
“We can handle this,” Michael says. “You can go back to bed.”
“I’m not leaving if she just threw up,” Agent Sterling replies.
Sloane tries and fails to sit up. “I’m okay,” she defends weakly.
“Do you even hear yourself?” Lia asks. She turns to Agent Sterling. “I’m pretty sure she just needs to sleep it off.”
Cassie catches on quickly. “Me too,” she chimes in. “You know how stomach bugs are.”
After several minutes of arguing, during which Sloane passes out, Lia convinces Agent Sterling that Sloane just needs some sleep. The second she’s gone, Lia goes into damage-control mode. “Clearly, the hangover is kicking in already,” she starts. “Michael, what do you think she’s going to be like?”
“Probably dizzy,” Michael theorizes thoughtfully. “Headache. I can see her being really sensitive to light and sound, too.”
“Maybe you’ll actually be right this time.”
“Hey, you were wrong about her being an emotional drunk too.”
“Shh,” Cassie says. “Let her sleep.”
“Oh, come on,” Lia replies. “She sleeps like the dead.”
“You need to sleep too,” Dean tells Lia. “You were drinking.”
Lia rolls her eyes. “I have a higher capacity for alcohol.”
“Which isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Dean replies.
“Cassie’s right. Let’s leave her alone,” Michael suggests. His gaze slides over to Celine. “CeCe, can you stay with her?”
Celine nods.
Lia clasps her hands together. “Well. That’s settled, then. Anyone up for a game?”
“You’re going to sleep,” Dean says darkly.
Lia rolls her eyes. “I’m joking. Obviously.”
Sloane sleeps for twenty-eight straight hours.
When Lia comes down into the kitchen at eight a.m. the next morning, Sloane is sitting at the kitchen table with the light off and her head down. “Good morning,” Lia says, turning the light on.
“Turn the light off,” Sloane mumbles.
“Sorry, but I can’t see without it,” Lia replies. “Not feeling great?”
Sloane mutters something unintelligible.
Lia nods like she actually understands Sloane. “Right. Of course.”
“Stop talking so loud.”
“This is my normal volume, genius.”
“It’s too loud.”
“Maybe you need to go back to sleep,” Lia theorizes. “When did you get up?”
“Two and a half hours ago.”
“And you’ve seriously just been sitting here with the light off?”
“Yes.”
Cassie comes into the kitchen. Her gaze darts from Sloane to Lia and back to Sloane. “What’s going on?”
“Hangover,” Lia stage-whispers. “You think we can pretend it’s still a stomach bug?”
“Maybe,” Cassie says slowly. She’s clearly not convinced. She makes her way over to the sink and fills a cup with water, then slides it across the table to Sloane.
Sloane doesn’t look up.
Cassie pokes her shoulder, and Sloane mumbles something unintelligible.
“Drink some water,” Cassie suggests.
Sloane lifts her head, squinting against the light. She reaches out and takes the cup, her hand shaking a little. “What happened last night?” she asks.
“Two nights ago, at this point,” Cassie says.
Lia shrugs. “I dragged you two out on a little girls’ outing. Somehow, we lost you, and somehow, you got drunk.”
Sloane frowns. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“Yeah, we figured you wouldn’t,” Lia says with another shrug. “I also believe I promised to remind you of your claims that you ‘didn’t drink anything’ the next morning when you were hungover.”
“Lia!” Cassie exclaims.
“What?” Lia defends. “I did.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to tell her that!”
Sloane pulls her legs up to her chest and buries her face in them. “Stop talking so loud,” she says.
“Sorry,” Cassie apologizes, instantly dropping to a whisper.
“Go back to sleep,” Lia suggests.
Sloane shakes her head. “It’s okay.”
“I will literally carry you back to your room,” Lia threatens.
Sloane doesn’t respond to that.
“Okay, then,” Lia says, striding over and scooping Sloane into her arms. Sloane squeaks but doesn’t try to fight her. Lia carries Sloane all the way back to her room and plops her down on the bed. “There.”
She turns to walk away, but Sloane’s hand catches her wrist. “Please don’t go,” Sloane whispers.
“What?” Lia asks, raising her eyebrows suspiciously. “You want me to stay?”
Sloane nods.
“Okay,” Lia replies, settling on the edge of the bed. “As long as you actually go to sleep.”
Sloane passes out within five minutes.