Page 31 of Single Malt

I’d arrived home last night a little before midnight after spending more than an hour checking for anything that couldn’t wait until morning. Then I’d gotten up at eight o’clock and spent the day supervising the cleaning crew since I didn’t trust anyone except myself to make certain that everything that needed to be done was done, especially after the previous ‘miscommunication.’

The Arts Center was back to looking great – better with the new paint job, in my opinion – and I planned to reward myself with a slow morning tomorrow before I started work on another paper.

But first, a hot shower.

I pulled off my shirt and pants and was reaching behind me for my bra when my phone rang. I was tempted to leave it since I knew Aline was already asleep and my parents went to bed early, but the responsible adult couldn’t just let it go.

I groaned as I saw Karina’s name on the screen, but I answered it anyway. The last thing I needed was her using me not answering the phone as an excuse for some poor life decision.

“Hello?” Not wanting to wake Aline, I kept my voice down.

“Freedom!”

I winced and pulled my phone away from my ear. This didn’t bode well for my relaxing shower and climbing into bed.

“Do you need something, Karina?” I asked, struggling to keep most of my irritation out of my voice.

“Yes. I need a ride.”

I closed my eyes. “You need a ride.”

“Sí. A ride.”

I wanted to tell her to call a cab. I knew she had the money to do it because, two days after she found out that I had an apartment, her parents had wired her the money for a deposit on an apartment in one of the nicest buildings in that area. She didn’t have a car since she hadn’t wanted to go through the process of getting a California license, but transportation wasn’t difficult to find.

A blast of loud music and shouting suddenly came through the phone, and Karina yelled something in Spanish that I couldn’t quite make out thanks to the cacophony behind her.

When she came back to the phone, she was giggling. “I drink a lot. Please get me.”

Shit.

I sighed. I didn’t want her to get in a taxi if she was drunk. The majority of the time, a driver would get her where she needed to be without any issues, but I couldn’t take a risk. I wouldn’t have suggested it to any eighteen-year-old woman in her position, but I would’ve probably referred her to someone else. Except Karina was like Aline. My responsibility.

“Where are you?”

She giggled again. “Party.”

“Yes, I can hear that. I need to knowwhatparty.”

“Loud one. Lots of boys.”

I mentally cursed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Find someone who’s sober and give them your phone.”

“Myphone.”

“Yes, Karina, I know that it’s your phone.” I stopped, something occurring to me. I repeated my instructions in Spanish, and a few seconds later, a different female voice spoke, telling me that I’d at least managed to get Karina to understand something.

“Hello? This girl just gave me a phone and said something in Spanish, I think.”

“Hi. Yes. The girl who gave you the phone is named Karina, and she’s drunk. I’m going to come pick her up, but I need to know where you are.”

“Oh.” The girl shouted something that sounded like she was asking yet another person for their location.

I shook my head. I understood people who wanted to socialize at college but to knowingly go somewhere that would be serving alcohol without ensuring that you knew where you were was simply foolish. Taking advantage of inebriated women was fairly easy to begin with, especially if no one had been designated to stay sober or if they went to parties alone, but adding in the inability to call for a ride made them even more vulnerable.

“We’re at the Theta Delta Chi house.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You can give Karina her phone back now.”