I couldn’t bring myself to look at Instagram; who knew what was going to show up there after the party last night? As good as last night felt, I couldn’t deny that I was feeling nervous about the consequences. To try and calm down the ball of anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach, I passed the time in the car by popping in my headphones and watching a manifestation video.

By the time we pulled up to the five-star hotel my parents used as their drunken love nest last night, I was feeling slightly more composed. I hopped out of the car, smiled at the valet as I passed by, and made my way into the lobby.

This hotel was stunning. The floors were the first thing to catch my eye. They were a cool white and gray marble that complimented the gray textured wallpaper perfectly. The front desk was black and had a beautiful bright pink orchid sitting on top, and a man dressed in a black suit stood behind it. He looked me over and was clearly not impressed with my wrinkled clothes and last night’s makeup. I gave him a small wave and let him know that I was meeting my parents in their room.

When I found their room, I knocked lightly, not wanting to wake other guests. My mom flung the door open and gave me the same look the front desk clerk did. “Is that what you were wearing yesterday?” my mom said, her voice carrying down the hall. I looked down at my white tank and jeans.

“Uh, yeah,” I said as I pushed past her into the room and shut the door. “I was just so exhausted from all the fun we had at the game, I fell asleep in my clothes and slept straight through my alarm,” I said weakly.

“If you say so!” my mom said, still looking at me suspiciously. She looked surprisingly good for as drunk as she got last night. I knew her well enough to know that it was expertly applied makeup and sheer determination not to admit that she couldn’t party like she was twenty anymore.

“Hi, pumpkin,” my dad said, sticking his head out of the bathroom door. “Can you help your mom finish packing while I finish shaving? Then we can go get some breakfast.”

My mom was busy shoving everything into her bags, trying to make them fit. I stopped her, took everything out, and folded it meticulously. Since they were only here for a couple of days, it only took me a few minutes to have my mom’s bags perfectly packed and ready to go.

“So you just stayed in your clothes,” Mom prodded while Dad was out of earshot.

“Yep,” I answered, popping the p for emphasis.

“Are you sure? Because that looks like a hickey on your neck,” she said, preening like a detective that just solved a case.