PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Blurry eyes struggled to focus. A very late night and too many tequila shots led us to this late-night diner.
“You shouldna given ‘im your number.” Tessa’s slurred words rang true and regret filled my veins.
“I got this.” I made a zigzag path down the aisle. “Scuse me. Y’want my phone?”
The girls’ shocked looks never registered as I dropped my phone on the stained Formica counter and wobbled away.
“See. Problem fixed.” I brushed my hands together and dropped into the booth, stuffing a handful of fries into my grinning mouth.