My head was pounding, even with my eyes closed it was too bright staring at the back of my eyelids. Someone should've cut me off when I switched from champagne to tequila. A soft whimpered groan fell out of my mouth as I rolled over, pulling my cheek from a firm pillow. The smell of maple and pork fat made me unsure if I was hungry or ready to lose the last bit of dignity I had right there on the floor.

I cringed against the light, quickly reaching up to shield my eyes as I squinted them open. There was a familiar world around me, which gave me a small inkling of relief. We must have moved the party from the club back to Becca's condo when it got too late, but I didn't remember that happening.

"Good morning sunshine," Max greeted me as they exited the bathroom. They looked well rested, hair wet and skin a bit flushed—towel draped around their neck. I snorted at the fact that they squeezed themselves into one of Becca's shirts and a pair of sweats. They looked like they were about to hulk out of outfit.

I fell back against the couch like a starfish in the desert. "I'm never drinking again."

Max lifted the edge of the towel, chuckling as they rubbed dripping ends of their hair. "If I could have a dollar for everytime I've heard you say that."

"I mean it this time."

"And If I could have a dollar for everytime you've—"

"Oh, shut up! I don't want to see your gloating face when I feel like shit." I tossed a throw pillow at them. They slapped it away with ease, a teasing smile on their face.

A tiny groan pulled my attention to a moving pile of blankets on the maroon, velveteen loveseat. Adele's head of wild curls popped out, sending a subtle glare in Max's direction. "Why do you look completely fine?"

They gave a small, smug shrug of their shoulders. "I drink responsibly." 

Adele scrunched up her nose, plopping back down. "I'm not sure if I like you anymore."

"Would you like me again if I told you there was a glass of water and tylenol waiting for you guys on the side table?"

We both turned our faces to the side table between the couch and the loveseat, and as promised, were two glasses of water and a canister of tylenol. I moved first, snatching the glass of water, washing away the dry and acidic, burning aftermath of last night's bad decisions.

"I'll forgive you completely if you open that bottle for me," Adele said, reaching for the glass of water with a flimsy smile. "Ugh. I swear I can feel all of my bones."

"Don't talk about it—" I groaned, trying not to dwell on that mental image. 

Max crossed the room and opened the Tylenol, turning first to Adele, which I noted with a raised brow. Maybe my romantically dense friend was turning over a new leaf.

"Hold out your hand." Adele was obedient to the demand. They shook out a few then turned to me. I lifted my hand like Adele, unable to stop my lips from curling up in a teasing grin. They gave me a small frown in return before placing the canister into my hand for me to do it myself.

"Rude..." I mumbled before fishing out a couple and tossing them into my mouth, ready for the pounding in my skull to dissipate. 

"Oh good everyone is awake."

I turned at the sound of Becca's chipper voice, frowning at the fact she wasn't in the same state as myself or Adele. Her auburn hair was braided back away from her face, and she was rocking her work out gear. Honestly, she looked ready to run a 5k, and that hurt my pride for some reason.

Adele took one look at her and plopped back into the loveseat with a groan. Those were my feelings exactly. Perhaps I should give the title of best friend to her. We were more alike and aligned than my other best friends.

"Don't hate me, yet. Breakfast is ready. I made it nice and greasy."

"I don't think I can move..." Adele mumbled.

"Let me help you—"

"I got it." Max cut off Becca, and dug Adele out from under the cocoon of blankets. "Throw your arm around my neck."

Again, without needing to be asked or told twice, she removed the towel and threw her arm around Max's neck. It was a surprising sight to watch them gather Adele up off the loveseat and take her to the dining room in a princess carry.

Becca watched them for a moment before glancing toward me with a conspiratory smirk. I threw out a hand and whined, "Help me up."

"Sure, but I'm not carrying you."

I rolled my eyes and took her hand, pulling myself up off the couch. The room swayed for a moment, and my stomach rolled. I closed my eyes and groaned. "Standing is worse."

"That's what you get for partying too hard."

I squinted down at her through one eye. "I don't want to hear that from you."

She shrugged her shoulders, keeping a firm grip on my hand. "I've got a better tolerance than you."

"Then maybe you should've talked some sense into me."

"And ruin your fun? Not likely."

I broke away from her, taking a few unsteady steps before getting control of my equilibrium. "What fun? I don't even remember most of the night. The last memory I have is slipping in someone's drink and wiping out on the dance floor."

Becca let out a bright laugh. "That was pretty funny."

"Yeah, well, my ass bone says otherwise this morning."

She gave my butt a firm slap as she passed by, causing me to grit my teeth against the stinging pain. Seriously, she was going to lose her rights to best friend if she kept pushing me today. I shot her a dark glare that she received with a toothy grin. This girl might very well be the spawn of satan.

My gaze shifted from her to the table, steaming plates of food. Max and Adele already settled in and dug into breakfast without any reservations. As if on cue my stomach let out a loud growl. I shuffled to the table and took a seat, grabbing a piece of bacon and devouring quickly. 

Becca took the seat across from me, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it. "So, what do you think is going to happen tomorrow?"

"Hm?" I looked around the table in confusion. Max met my gaze for a fleeting moment before glancing back down at their plate. I turned my attention back to Becca as she bit into the corner of her toast, brown eyes shimmering with mischief.

My stomach grew hollow at the sight, and it had nothing to do with my hunger or the raging hangover. There was a tingling sensation on the back of my neck, like the universe was trying to warn me about something. Anytime Becca's had that look in the past, it meant bad news for me. I glanced down at my pile of fluffy eggs, trying hard to recall anything from my remaining memories of last night.

"Hopefully, we'll all be hearing good news."

The back of my throat went dry at that comment, I placed my fork down and lifted my face to Becca. "Okay, what is going on?"

"Nothing that you remember. Maybe it's better that way."

I twisted in my seat, the pounding in my head now insync with my heart. "Max—"

"Don't look at me. I had nothing to do with any of this. Blame it on the gremlin and the alcohol."

Becca gasped and quickly tossed a tangerine at Max's head. "I'm not a gremlin!"

They caught the fruit, placing it next to Adele's plate like an offering. "Could have fooled me."

I slapped my hand down on the table, heart in my throat; stomach in my bottom. Now was not the time for playful banter. I had obviously done something terrible last night—something possibly life ruining if I was to go off my friends reactions. "Oh my god, what happened? What did I do?!"

"Not so loud," Adele said, reaching up and rubbing at her temple. "She's probably referring to your confession to Alex."

Pause.

What did she say?

My confession to Alex?

There's no way I would do something so stupid.

No.

I refused to believe that I did that.

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, air wheezing out the growing hole between my lips. A tormenting barrage of images flashed through my mind. The news article. Becca and I fighting for my phone. Then the damning flash of words standing out against blue light: Message sent successfully.

"Oh. my. God." 

"I knew she would react like this," Max said, sending a deadpanned look in Becca's direction.

My hands were trembling as my adrenaline spiked. "Holy shit! I need my phone now." I pushed back from the table and rushed back to the living room, eyes scanning the mess we'd made of the room the night prior. The coffee table was a scatter of glasses, half-drunk and an empty whiskey bottle. Next to that was a tray with stale crackers and cheese.

Where the hell was my purse? I started tearing through the pile of blankets that Adele was buried in not too long ago. Only found a pair of heels and the button up that Max was wearing over their tank. Damn it!

I headed toward the stairs that led to the entryway, spotted my shoes kicked off next to a coat rack. There was a narrow table by the front door with a key dish and next to that was my glittering bag. I skipped the last step and snatched up my purse, opening it, grabbing my phone, and tossing it aside.

"Fuck!" Of course, it was dead. I bounded back up the stairs and into the dining room. My hangover threatened to steal the bit of breakfast that I had stomached. "Charger! I need a charger."

Becca got up from her chair, holding out her hand. I let her take my phone as she disappeared from the room.

"Kate, you need to relax."

"Relax? Are you kidding?" I snapped at Max, using the remaining strength I had to get myself back into my chair. The smell of breakfast was no longer appealing; far from it, honestly. "Why didn't you stop me? Of all people, you're the one person I can trust to be a point of reason."

They let out an exasperated sigh, dropping their fork and leaning back in their seat. "Because you're a grown adult, Kate. Plus, I was tired of watching you pine over that guy, knowing you were never going to do anything about it." 

As much as I wanted too—I couldn't be mad at Max. I did this to myself; under encouragement, of course. But still, it was something I had done with my own hand. This was the worst. Even if I did check the email that I sent, what could I do? It was sent. There was no way to undo it or turn back time.

I pushed my plate of food away, and dropped my head to the table with a heavy groan. "My life is over. God knows what I said in that email—how am I going to go to work like normal after this?"

"Well, you could always quit and come work for me," Becca said as she returned to the table.

I lifted my face and shot her a dirty glare. "You'd like that wouldn't you."

"Of course."

"This is probably one of your mastermind plans—I wouldn't put it past you."

She smiled at my words, clearly finding the situation entertaining. "As much as I appreciate your assessment of my genius. This is not something I can claim."

"Ugh!" I dropped my head again. "Why don't time machines exist?"

"Are you really that upset?" Adele asked, voice a bit hoarse.

"Yes. This is my dream job—well, not the mailroom, but you know what I mean." I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course, it would be awesome if Alex received my confession and reciprocated those feelings. But that's a fantasy. Reality was much different. "Alex is the head of the marketing department. What do you think would happen if we were to start dating and I got a position in marketing. If people found out it might cause issues. Plus, I might not believe that I got the position based on my own talent but because we were seeing each other."

There was the truth of it. Sure, if I was going to stay an unknown mailroom girl than dating him or whatever, none of that would be a concern for me. But I didn't want to stay in the mailroom. I had big dreams for myself.

"I guess I didn't really think about that." Adele sounded genuinely remorseful, which only made me feel worse. This wasn't her fault or her problem.

"It's not your fault. I'll figure something out—" Although, I didn't know what I could do at this point.

"I might be able to help you." Everyone at the table turned their attention to Adele.

"What?"

"Well, I do maintenance on the computers at PK Corps. It wouldn't be the first time that I've had access to his computer. If we say that it's just a routine software update or something, I might be able to access his email and delete it before he sees it. That is, as long as he isn't the type of person to take work home with him."

"That's pretty devious," Max said with a lifted brow. "Didn't know you had it in you to be such a troublemaker."

"It's always the quiet ones," Becca remarked with a smirk.

Adele's cheeks were turning a shade of soft blush. Her skin was still thin, which wasn't a good thing when hanging around people like Becca and Max. Their teasing could really get under people's skin. "I just want to help my friend."

"Ignore them. If you help me with this I promise I'll owe you big time!" And I meant that.

"You don't have to pay me back—"

"No, I really do! You have no idea how much you are helping me."

Max nodded. "Just accept it. She's as stubborn as Becca."

"I'd say you're all pretty stubborn," Adele mumbled.

"Hah! Should I make us some mimosa's while we plan your method of attack?" Becca asked and Adele and I both groaned; an explosion of laughter filled the room at our response. She really might be the spawn of satan.