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CHAPTER 9

Vanya's POV:

"Come on Tara, I'm driving you home."

"But why?" Tara drawled, her head bobbing on my shoulder. The stench of alcohol was heavy on her breath. She raised her head and looked up at me, cheeks flushed and lips bloody red. "How are you not drunk?" She asked, a hiccup leaving her lips.

"I have high alcohol tolerance." I said. I supported her, my arm over her shoulder as we stumbled to my car. "I'm sober enough to drive us home."

"Okay," She mumbled. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Before I could stop her, she doubled over, throwing up the contents in her stomach on the ground. I patted her back, holding her hair back.

"Let it all out." I mumbled.

She gagged and retched, mumbling half apologies about how she's such a mess. I heard approaching footsteps running toward us. I turned to see Mike holding a bottle of water.

"Is she okay?" He asked, worried eyes glancing at Tara.

"She's fine." I said, taking the bottle from his hand. I opened it and brought it up to Tara's lips. She dr
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