The Rollins Pack: Jeremiah
By: Alexis Donkin
Copyright 2013, Alexis Donkin
All rights reserved.
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“Huh?” I smacked my lips. Running my tongue along my teeth I frowned. Fuzz. Ugh! Blinking, my eyes came into focus. A face was much too close with breath that wreaked. I cringed.
“Dude – you're late!” he said. The words sank in. Suddenly everything sharpened and I jumped up, dodging my friend's face just barely. He winced, as he rubbed his dark hair.
“Crap!” I ran my hands down my shirt. Wrinkled. I didn't have time to get home and change. My parents were going to kill me. I could see my father's icy glare now. I bit my lip. “Do you have any mouthwash?” I croaked, looking around frantically. My friend blinked his light brown eyes at me stupidly. “Danny, mouthwash!” I yelled, wincing as the sound echoed through my skull. No more tequila for you!
“Uh...” he stammered, eyes wide. I growled and he whimpered as I pushed past him to the bathroom. I didn't worry about the limp bodies in various states of dishabille. I didn't care if I woke anyone up or stepped on an errant limb en route to the bathroom. I had thirty minutes to get to the charity brunch or my life was over. Well, not over – just much more difficult.