A sick feeling of déjà vu streams through me as I realize I’ve run out of options. Wes hasn’t answered, Jameson’s phone appears to be off, and so is Landon’s because I know he’s already asleep at the house. I press send and slowly rest my phone against my ear, convincing myself he won’t answer.
“I don’t want to talk to you. Especially not when you’re drunk,” Max growls.
I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it like it’s the dirty underwear I just removed from Kendall and contemplate hanging up on him for a long moment.
“When have I ever drunk dialed you?” I demand.
“Harper, I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve never drunk dialed you!”
“Harper, what do you want?”
“For you to stop saying my name like it’s some disgusting disease for one.” I pause to allow my words to sink in and then take a deep breath. “I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?” Max responds nearly instantly, sounding marginally less vehement.
“Kendall drank something. She drank a lot of something and she’s wasted. I can’t get her to respond at all, and I can’t carry her. I’d call a cab, but I don’t think I can get her through the crowd, and I can’t get a hold of any of my sisters, and Jameson’s phone is off. He didn’t want to come here, and I think he’s mad at Kendall for coming.” I don’t know what it is about Max that has always made me spout off the longest sentences of my life.
“Where are you guys?” I can hear Max rustling and assume he’s getting out of bed and dressed.
I glance at Kendall. Her body is completely relaxed, sprawled across the linoleum floor. “I don’t know exactly, we’re downtown. I need to ask someone for the address and call you back.”
“No, just stay on with me.”
I take a fleeting look back at my sister in the mess of laundry and quietly escape out the door, making sure to securely close it behind me.
“Hey, do you know who lives here?” I ask a pretty red-headed girl a few feet from me that is talking to another girl.
They both turn to look at me and then shrug before dispersing into the crowd. “Very helpful,” I murmur, taking a few more steps, reluctant to allow too much space between myself and the door hiding Kendall.
“Hey, do you know what the address of this place is, or who lives here?” I ask a tall black guy that looks like he could be a professional athlete based on his height and build.
He turns and gives me a smooth, well-practiced smile as his eyes travel down the small black dress Kendall had convinced me to wear. “I can show you where I live.”
“Seriously, ask another chick!” Max barks.
I don’t bother responding to either of them and take a few more steps into the living room.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, reaching out and gently touching a girl’s forearm. She looks from my hand to my face and her lips that are painted bright red curl into a smile.
“Hey,” she replies, taking a step closer to me.
“Hi, um…” I shift my weight back slightly, not certain if she’s drunk or why she’s leaning closer to me. “Do you know the address of this place? I’m trying to give directions to my ride.”
“I’d be happy to give you a ride.”
“That’s alright. He’s already on his way. I’m just trying to tell him where to go.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing with guys—you always have to tell them where to go,” she says, leaning closer to me.
Max’s soft laughter echoes in my ear, a familiar and warm sound. “It’s my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s on his way,” I reply before considering the ramifications of my words.
“Too bad,” she replies, rocking back on her feet. Her eyes fall back down to my dress and raising a single, delicate eyebrow she looks back at my face. “You have a bangin’ body.”
I force a smile before turning to check the laundry room door for the hundredth time.
“I have the address in a text,” she explains, pulling her phone from her purse. “You know, you kind of look like that famous soccer player, Alex something. I bet you get that a lot.”
I shake my head, not having a clue who she’s referencing since I haven’t followed professional soccer in a few years now. “No, if anything I get told that I sort of resemble one or more of my four older sisters.”
“Four sisters? Wow. Are they as beautiful as you?”
“My sisters are gorgeous.”
She nods a couple of times. “I’m sure they are, but I asked if they’re as beautiful as you.”
“I got the leftover genes in comparison,” I reply, smiling to show I’m comfortable with the fact.
“I seriously doubt that, Alex.” She looks at me as though she’s tempted to say more and then turns her attention to her phone. “Alright, here we go. Tell him you’re at 17902 N Dayton Lane.”
“I got it,” Max says quietly before I can repeat it to him.
Turning to the girl that’s moved her attention to the laundry room door that I’ve been glancing at she furrows her eyebrows. “Do you need some help?”
“No, thanks though. And thanks for the address. I appreciate it!”
“If it doesn’t work out with you and this guy, let me know. Believe me, you won’t ever have to tell me where to go, I’d never let you out of my sight.”
I smirk, trying to hide my laughter from joining Max’s, and head back toward the hall where a large group cheers a random drinking game. Breaking through the majority of the group, I clutch the phone a little tighter to see if I can hear Max, not certain if we lost connection through the chaos. “Max?”
“I’m here.”
“Please don’t let me go.” I’m referring to hanging up the phone, but quickly realize how my words could easily be interpreted in another manner. My mind begins racing, trying to think of how to correct it.
“I won’t, Ace. I won’t.” A faraway memory fills my chest making my heart flutter and my head spin.
I open the laundry room door and crouch beside Kendall, pushing clothes away from her, and checking to ensure her breathing still sounds steady.
“I’m almost there. Is Kendall awake?”
“No, but her breathing is fine. I don’t know how she managed to drink so much.”
“It’s alright, she’s going to be okay. Where are you guys?”
“Upstairs. Take the hall off the living room and then the second door on your right in the laundry room.”
“The laundry room?”
“Yeah.”
A soft laugh echoes through the phone and to my other ear, and I turn to see Max wearing a pair of navy blue cargo shorts and fitted gray T-shirt. The last trace of fear vanishes from his face, and I follow his eyes to Kendall and the remaining articles of clothing still strewn across her.
“What was she drinking? Did she take anything?” he asks. Kneeling beside her, across from me, he feels for her pulse and checks her eyes.
“I don’t know. She and Jameson were arguing and I was trying to give them a little space. Then I saw him leave, and by the time I found her, she was chugging tequila.”
Max’s eyebrows scrunch slightly. “She usually knows her limits though.”
“Do you think she was drugged?” I ask.
Max turns to me, his blue eyes calculated as he looks me over. “It’s hard to say without a urine test. She seems okay, so we can take her home and make J look after her, or we can take her to the hospital and they can run a few tests.”
I stare at him with wide eyes. I let my sister possibly get drugged?
“Ace, hey.” I turn my attention to Max, who’s now standing a few short feet in front of me. “Ace, this isn’t your fault. She’s going to be okay, I promise.”
I turn my attention back to Kendall, feeling a new wave of guilt and panic. “How do we know what to do?”
“I think that based on the fact we know she was drinking heavily, and she’s been under quite a bit of stress with work and the wedding, she’s probably just passed out. I think the best thing to do at this point is bring her home, get her lots of water and sleep, and check on her every couple of hours to make sure nothing changes.”