“Oh, sh*t! Quila, we have to go,” Carmel spoke to her after talking with someone on the phone.
Quila’s eyes were half close. One elbow rested on the table, and her hand cradled her cheek. She could feel her surroundings spin around her. It had been hours since she and Carmel drank in Delish. But it was mostly her.
“Why? What happened?” she asked Carmel with slurry words.
“It’s Winna. She’s in the emergency room because of her allergies. I’m sorry, we have to go, so let’s get you home first, okay?”
“Oh, no, no! Go! Go to Winna. She needs you more than I do.”
“What? No. I’m responsible for you, Quila. I brought you here,” Carmel protested.
“I’m safe here. It’s Delish, Car,” she assured her friend. She noticed that Carmel’s face was already blurry, and she seemed to see two or three of
