Page 42 of Hold the Pickle
Maybe she did call me? It doesn’t matter. I’m here.
The two paramedics push forward toward the door.
“We’ll go to South General,” I tell Max and Camryn. “Come find us.”
“We will,” Camryn says.
“Keep her hydrated,” I tell Max. “She might have contractions if she’s distressed.”
He nods.
And with that, I follow the paramedics through the crowd of Aces, my hand clasped around Nadia’s.
13
NADIA
Idon’t end up getting my stomach pumped.
I throw up three times on the ride over, not that much of anything comes out, and by the time they check my blood levels, I’m already recovering.
They won’t let Max and Cam stay in my curtained space for more than a hug, but Dalton gets to remain. The IV fluids have an anti-nausea drug in them, and I start feeling better.
“Do you remember how much you drank?” Dalton asks.
This is embarrassing.
“I was in the middle of my third margarita. And I had two shots.”
“How fast?”
“Pretty fast.” I can’t look in his direction, instead focusing on the wavy pattern on the curtain.
“You didn’t strike me as the binge drinking type.”
“I’m not.”
“Hey.”
I turn to him.
“I’m not judging you. Just asking the questions that need to be asked if we’re going to be sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I look away again.
“You seem better.”
This is the worst. I’m not like this. I was out of my element, and people kept handing me drinks.
Ugh.
The doctor who saw me first comes in. He knows Dalton. I can tell by the smirk on his face, but they don’t let on in front of me. “Your blood panel came back clear on Rohypnol, GHP, and Ketamine, which are the usual date-rape drugs. But your blood alcohol level was .2, which is high.”
“I thought dive bars would be skimpy on the alcohol,” I say.
“Not that one.” He leans forward and uses a penlight to look into my eyes again. “You still feeling nauseous?”
“No. Just tired.”
