Actually, I think I will make it. See you tonight, Liz texted Justin before throwing her phone into the passenger seat and going home to see if she had anything that could possibly resemble a tacky Hawaiian outfit.

No.

That was her general consensus on whether or not she had anything remotely Hawaiian-looking. People were walking around in oversize Hawaiian button-downs, fake grass skirts, coconut bra tops, cut-off jean shorts, foam visors, bathing suits, and leis everywhere.

Liz didn’t own any jean shorts or even a jean skirt, which apparently would have been acceptable. She had opted for a white skirt, hot pink bikini top, and flip-flops. It wasn’t tacky, but at least it was themed. She had even taken the time to dry her hair, so that it had beachy waves to it. No one seemed to care as long as they got to come up to her and yell, “Do you want to get lei’d?” Then they would throw a lei over her head and laugh maniacally while chugging beer.

Justin dragged her around the party, introducing her to all of his fraternity brothers and some of the girls they were fooling around with, though he didn’t always know their names. She wondered briefly whether people thought that she was fooling around with Justin, and drowned herself in hunch punch at the thought.

Her phone was glued to her side, but she had never heard from Brady. After two glasses of the hunch punch, she wasn’t thinking straight about anything. She rested her hand on Justin’s arm and laughed at a joke some girl had made that she would have normally never found funny. But for some reason right now, it was hysterical.

“What is in this stuff?” she asked, turning to face Justin and trying to stand up straight.

He laughed when he got a good look at her. “Fuck, you’re wasted. That is like vodka and Everclear with a hint of Kool-Aid for taste.”

“Are you kidding me?” she croaked. “I could die!”

“You’re not going to die,” he said, placing his hand on her waist to steady her. “You’ll be fine. Just loosen up a bit.”

“A bit? I’m falling over,” she said, as she did just that and started laughing again.

Justin reached down and helped her stand up once again. “You’re a mess. When was the last time you drank this much?”

Liz shook her head side to side really fast. “Never. No, once!”

“Maybe I should take you home,” he suggested. He rested her back against the wall of the fraternity house and leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know. I’m having such a good time, though,” she said, even though she knew that didn’t sound like her at all.

“You’re drunk, Liz. Let me take you home.”

“I’m drunk?” she asked, poking at his chest. “You’re drunk too!”

He shook his head. “No way. I haven’t had much at all. I can totally drive.”

“I’ll just take a cab.”

“Seriously, I can drive you.”

“Fine! Take me home then,” she said, letting him take her arm and guide her away from the house.

Warning alarms went off in her head as they got closer and closer to his car. She was suddenly not feeling well at all. Why was walking so difficult? Why was the entire universe spinning right now? That wasn’t a good sign, was it?

“Are you sure you can drive?” she asked, covering her mouth and trying to hold back the rising sickness in the pit of her stomach.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you feeling? You look a bit green.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.

“Ugh, yeah, I feel a bit green.”

“Are you going to make it all the way home?” he asked.

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth to speak. He walked around the car, sliding inside and pulling out of Frat Court. The car ride did not help. It really wasn’t a long drive. On the roads this late at night when few people were out, it was less than five minutes from her place to his, but it felt like an eternity. She wasn’t sure if her vision was blurring or if they were swerving. Were they swerving?

“Justin, are you drunk?” she asked as they crossed over Franklin Street as the light turned red. She heard tires screech to a halt as they coasted through the busiest intersection in Chapel Hill.

“I’m fine. We’re almost there,” he said, taking the first right onto Rosemary Street.

Then she saw it in her rearview mirror: blue lights.

“Fuck!” Justin cried as the police car pulled up behind his car.

“Shit, Justin,” Liz said, straightening in her seat and wishing she had a fucking shirt. She was in a car, getting pulled over by the police, in a miniskirt and bathing suit top. She felt ridiculous.

Justin pulled over to the side of the road, and the policeman came over to the window asking for his license and registration. Liz watched the next thirty minutes through a drunken haze. Justin was asked to step out of the car. He failed the sobriety tests with flying colors. The police officer informed him that he was being arrested for driving under the influence. Liz watched the officer escort Justin into the backseat of the police cruiser. He would have to spend the night in jail.

“Ma’am,” the officer said, coming up to her.

“Uh…yes, Officer?” she asked, sobering up.

“Do you have someone who could come pick you up, or do you need us to escort you home?”

“No, I live right around the corner. Only a block away.”

“It’s late. We can drive you if you need us to,” he offered.

“No, thank you, sir.”

“All right. Please drink more responsibly next time, ma’am.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as he walked back to his police car and drove off with Justin.

Liz placed her phone to her ear as she walked the short distance back to her house. She couldn’t believe that had happened only one block from her house. That was the unluckiest thing that she had ever witnessed.

“Senator Maxwell’s office,” a woman answered through the phone.

He had someone answering phones at all hours of the night. What a life…

“I need to speak with the Senator.” She was pretty sure her voice cracked.

“Who may I ask is speaking?”

“Sandy Carmichael,” she said, weakly turning the corner.

“One moment, Ms. Carmichael.”

Liz waited a couple minutes, and then Brady’s voice came through the line just as she walked through the front door.

“Liz?” he asked. He sounded surprised, or maybe she was making that up.

“Brady.” When she said his name, she broke down and the tears burst out of her eyes. The DUI had messed her up more than she had realized. What could have happened was scarier than what actually happened.

“Are you all right? What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly concerned this time.

Despite everything that happened, all she could get out was, “Who was the girl?”

“What?”

“The girl you were with at the town hall event?”

“Oh, Liz, did you see that?”

Was he confirming her fears? Was she one of many that he was doing this with?

“That was my sister, Savannah.”

Liz froze where she was standing. His sister. Well, that changed things. “Oh,” she said softly.

“She lives with my parents, and I picked her up and brought her to the event with me,” he said.

“I wish I’d known…” she said wistfully, feeling childish.

“Why?” he asked, his tone lowering.

“I went to a frat party.”

Brady was silent. Liz was pretty sure that was worse. She couldn’t handle his silence.

“A friend of mine was driving me home, and he got a DUI. I just walked home,” she said, her voice cracking again. She couldn’t believe Justin had gone to jail tonight. She would have to try to get ahold of him in the morning.

“Let me get this straight. You assumed I was with another woman. So you went and got trashed with some other guy who ended up endangering your life,” he said, his controlled tone damn near threatening Justin’s life at that moment.