“Ah! I didn’t know it’s that easy to get a lady blushing when I’m sick than it is when I’m well,” I brag.

“Indeed! I can testify to that,” Diana responds, and we both laugh.

“Or maybe this bathroom has got some secret seduction powers of some sort. I have never gotten you blushing,” I say.

“Come on, dude. You stop it now. Next time I won’t come to check on you because you’ll end up making me blush,” she says, smiling. “So tell me, since you drank so much last night that you wake up feeling sick from it, did you have fun?”

“FUN? Please!” I think to myself, looking at her astounded. “You call that fun? Girl, you have no idea. If it was fun, I wouldn’t wake up with my head inside a toilet chamber,” I respond.

She cracks into laughter. “Come on, tell me. You had fun right?” she asks.

Before responding, I scratch my nose with my forefinger, thinking of what to say, and goofily smile at her. “A little white lie might be harmless here,” I think to myself, and then purse my lips. “Yes, indeed! I had fun,” I finally say as jollily as a little white lie can get.

Her face lights up. “Great!” she says.

“Indeed, great!” I respond, faking a smile. I then notice that she is staring seriously at me, but charmingly so (I always find her charming by the way).

“So … last night, Teekay, where did you go?” she asks. “Tell me all the details … you know I love stories. Was it a party or what?”

“Ugh, again with the questions,” I think to myself before responding. “This is what I wanted to avoid. What is the thing with nerds wanting to know how cool people turn up at legendary parties? Dear God.”

“Yeah, there was a party, Diana, a big one,” I finally respond. “It was somewhere in town.”

“Oh, okay!” she says, giggling. Her beautiful white teeth are showing, and so are some dimples (I adore those dimples). I then watch her eyes become brighter. “Somewhere in town, you say?” she continues. “Sounds interesting to me! There must have been everything, including hot ladies! I bet you smoked Shisha”

I cock a brow. “Nerds really do find these things flabbergasting,” I think to myself. I watch her laugh crazily, and I swallow hard. “This girl is truly in the dark. If only she knew, I smoked stuff that is stronger than shisha.”

I know that a change in topic could really do some help, so I twirl a bit, trying to come up with something. Then suddenly, the thought of how she got into my apartment strikes me. “Yes! Trump card. Perhaps sister Holy is not so holy after all,” I think.

“How did you get in here, if I may ask?” I finally say.

“Huh?” she responds.

“How did you enter my apartment? My door was locked, you know,” I say kindly, not wanting to seem stupid in the end.

Before responding, Diana giggles and looks at me with mischief in her eyes, and I am not sure if what she is seeing in my face is not the definition of stupid. “So you think your door was locked?” she asks.

“Absolutely!” I respond.

“Did you lock it last night?” she asks.

“Oh yes, I did,” I respond.

“You sure?” she asks.

“Yes, I locked it. As usual, didn’t I?” I respond.

“Stop lying,” she says, smirking. “You need to stop lying right now, old boy.”

“I’m not. Why would I lie?” I asks.

She cackles. “Boy, you’re crazy! You do not even know that it was me who brought you home from DREAMS! What a score!” she says.

My jaws drop. “Is she for real?” I ask myself.

“Yes it was me. I singlehandedly carried out the whole task. I found you stripped, passed out, and SORRY. Oh … you were looking so sorry, believe me. I got really mad at you for being negligent with your life, but it’s the sorry part that made me decide not to leave you there,” she says, then swallows, and I notice that a part of her is still mad.

“I dragged you to your car and drove home. I had no time to help you put on your clothes because that job was for the whore who removed them,” she continues, looking at me sternly, trying to get a reaction, but I give her none. She then shakes her head. “You embarrassed yourself last night, I don’t want to lie. That’s why I had to lock you up in here, like a prisoner.”

She then pauses for a while and cackles. “If you had tried going out today, I don’t think you could have made it,” she continues. “And I’m sure that’s when you were going to realise that your keys were missing. I wanted to lock you up for two days.”

“What in the hell …” I think to myself. “Are you kidding me?” I finally ask.

“No,” she blurts out playfully. “I’m not kidding you … I’m adulting you! See, I saved your life and your wallet. You should be thanking me right now. Those low life thugs at the club could have robbed you on your way out, or killed you, or even raped you in the butt. I have heard stories of men getting raped at clubs by other men. You think they care about your rich background? It does not make you immune. It makes you a target!”

I know that she is right, and that is the ugly thing that I dread the most. My eyes widen. If this girl was not Nothando Diana Gibson, I could have gladly opened my a-hole for her to make sure that nothing happened, because I might have been raped for sure.

“What should I do?” I ask myself.

While I am thinking, an idea pops in my head, so I quickly freeze all my muscles, except for the one in my butt, and cough. This is a smart way to test for pain in my butt without Diana noticing, of course. I am not sure if there is any pain, so I decide not to worry about it for a bit and get back to a real conversation.

“So how … how did you find me? Were you there, at the club, yourself?” I ask, and then watch her shake her head in disagreement.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she responds.

“Try me,” I say reassuringly, because I really want to know.

“I got a call from my cousin,” she responds. “She was also at the club, and she said that you were in a terrible state; that you were totally messed up and you urgently needed help.”

“Oh, my God.” I say, and that is all I am able to say.

“Yeah, for real. Somebody gotta talk to your God,” she responds, smirking.

Tell us: What do you think people should do when they go out knowing they are going to get drunk?