If the text had come from anyone except Megan, I would have simply added their name to my kill-list, and gone back to sleep. Instead, I grabbed my phone and gave her a call.
“I'm going to strangle you.” I said, by way of greeting.
“Why? You at work, cuz?” She sounded tipsy, but lucid, which was actually rather good for her. and she seemed to be forcing a playful tone, which meant she was worried. Damnit.
“I just had three twelve hour shifts in a row during finals week, because my boss is a sadistic twat. I had one final yesterday between my second and third shifts, and my last final is coming up in... just under seven hours. I literally just crawled in bed eleven minutes ago. You'd better be dying.”
“Oh, Ethan, I'm ssoo sorry. I'll be fine. Good luck on the final, and stuff.”
I sighed. “Are you somewhere safe?”
“For the moment, yeah. It's alright, we'll find someone to give me a ride.”
Megan wouldn't have called me on a weeknight if she'd had any decent options, and I didn't want to think about what kind of person they'd find willing to give a bunch of drunk junior high girls a ride. I wasn't be able to rest easy until I heard she was somewhere safe anyway, so I resigned myself to the innevitable and said, “Don't bother, just text me the address. I'm on my way.”
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