10|Smashed

Emily was pretty smashed when they left Crush, the upscale nightclub where she'd blown thousands of rands on drinks and food in a matter of hours.

No matter how loudly she proclaimed to be 'super', anyone with a shred of common sense could see she was in no condition to be behind the wheel.

Natalie couldn't take them home either since she couldn't drive. It was one of the things she always meant to learn, but like her new sofa and wallpaper had somehow slipped further down her bucket list.

"I can take us home, I promise!" Emily teetered on her feet as she reached up to snatch back her car keys.

She would have fallen face down if it wasn't for Natalie's quick reaction time. The two cocktails she'd nursed throughout the night hadn't dulled her senses. She caught her swiftly and propped her up against the pole light on the pavement.

"Sit here and be good," she said as she glanced around and bit her nails, thinking up a plan to get them home.

She'd already taken too many Ubers this week because of her Dreams training. It didn't help that payday was still two weeks away. She really couldn't afford another trip. But it was late, and the thought of sleeping in Emily's car didn't sound appealing.

Sighing, she unlocked her phone and accessed her rideshare app.

A white sedan pulled up two minutes later, and the driver rolled down his window. "You Natalie?"

She glanced at her phone and then at the car, making sure it was indeed their ride. It was one of the many safety precautions her sister had drilled into her head before she left Sparrow Beach.

Amber thought of Rock Union as the big bad wolf ready to gobble her up if she so much as made one wrong move, and because of that, she'd given her a long list of rules. Things she couldn't do. Places she shouldn't go. And crowds she shouldn't hang out with.

Natalie hated that her sister was right. So much was wrong with this place.

But the money glossed over all the bad.

It always did.

Happy the driver's face matched the photo on the app, Natalie gathered up her friend, almost toppling over as she dragged her to the car.

"Is she drunk? Lady, I'm telling you now, if she throws up, you'll have to pay for the car wash," the driver grumbled, happy to sit behind the wheel and watch her struggle alone with Emily.

"She's fine!" Natalie lied as she shoved her friend's feet inside and pushed her seatbelt in place. Emily was properly pickled. But Kevin didn't need to know this.

Running back to the pavement, she grabbed their handbags and gave the spot where her friend had sat a once over, making sure they didn't leave anything behind.

Leaving the car there was probably not the smartest of ideas, and her only comfort was the camera outside the Thai restaurant across the street, pointing straight at Crush's parking lot.

Huffing and puffing, Natalie slid in beside her friend, regretting not taking Aunty Viv up on her boxing gym offer. She'd never felt so unfit in her life.

"Where to?" Kevin asked.

Natalie stared blankly at him.

When she requested the ride, she had a vague notion of dropping Emily off first. But now, with Kevin glaring at her in the rear-view mirror, she realised she couldn't even remember her friend's place. She'd only been there once, and at night.

"So?" Kevin grunted impatiently in the front.

"Just a sec," Natalie said as she punched in her address. A moment later, the driver's phone pinged with her destination.

Despite his less-than-welcoming attitude, Kevin was a chatterbox, warming to her with each kilometre they took as they sped to the south of town.

Natalie listened to all his dramatic stories, made the right sounds and said the right things at the right times.

They were almost in Beacon Hill when Emily snapped out of her drunken stupor and belched as she covered her mouth with her hands to hold back a wave of vomit.

Praying she'd hold it in for a minute longer, Natalie yelled at Kevin to stop the car. She would die if she threw up all over her.

Startled by the sudden commotion in the back, the Uber driver rammed the brakes so hard that Natalie would have hit his headrest if she wasn't strapped in.

"No! No! No!" he yelled as he unbuckled his seatbelt quickly, unlocked his door and shot out like a bolt of lightning.

"I told you! She cannot throw up in my car. I still have a lot of trips to do tonight." He carried on scolding her as they helped Emily out of the car, and for a little while, Natalie held her friend's long hair back while she purged her supper and the six cocktails and four shooters she'd guzzled throughout the night all over the pavement.

"I'm sorry!" Emily sobbed, remnants of puke dripping down the side of her mouth.

Natalie looked through her denim jacket, pulled out a gently used tissue, and handed it to her. "Here."

"I'll never drink again, I promise," Emily vowed as she wiped her mouth.

"You'd better not!" Natalie said as she helped her back inside the car.

"That could have been bad!" Kevin laughed, shaking his head as he fastened his seatbelt again and turned to look at them, clearly relieved he wouldn't be out of commission for the rest of the night.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up outside her flat.

"Do you need help with her?" He asked, shooting a nervous glance outside his window.

It was just after 1:00 AM, and the dingy street was abuzz with the usual weekend rowdiness as house music reverberated off the walls of a nearby apartment building.

A group of guys Natalie had seen around the area were huddled outside Tate's Bottle Store, passing smokes and a bottle of something wrapped in a brown bag between them.

Straight ahead at a sleepy intersection, a trio of young girls, nowhere near sixteen, shot nervous glances at their pimps sitting in a shiny cabriolet as they anxiously waited for the night to pick up.

"Sure, I'll be fine. She's not heavy!" Natalie said cheerfully, just to convince herself. She had no frigging clue how they'd make it to her fifth-floor apartment with Emily so drunk. But she didn't want to trouble Kevin. He'd done enough by bringing them over. Most drivers refused to come to Beacon Hill at night; the place was notorious for carjackings.

Natalie fished out fifty Rands from her purse. "Thanks for your help, Kevin—" Her voice trailed off as she handed him the note, embarrassed at how little it was.

Kevin was happy with the tip, though, no matter how small.

He smiled broadly at her and gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks, man! I also make private trips. Call me directly next time. I'll give you a good price."

"Only if you rate me five stars," Natalie shot him a cheeky grin as she scooped her friend up and collected their belongings.

As soon as Natalie closed the door behind them, Kevin sped off with one final hoot, leaving a cloud of fumes in his trail, his wheels screeching on the pothole-riddled road.