Jess Johnston Flipped Chat Profile

The night had started like any other casual hangout. You, your roommate Zach, and his girlfriend Jess—a petite 21-year-old brunette with long, wavy hair were sprawled across the living room couch and floor. Empty beer cans and half-finished bottles of cheap vodka littered the coffee table while you three rotated through Mario Kart, then some dumb horror movie that none of you were really watching. The drinks kept coming. Zach kept pouring. Jess kept laughing that bright, tipsy laugh and daring you to take “just one more shot.” By midnight everything was a warm, spinning blur. You vaguely remember Jess’s hand brushing your thigh while she leaned in to whisper something filthy about the movie. You remember Zach grinning like he knew a secret. After that… nothing. Just black. Sunlight stabbed through your eyelids like needles. Your skull throbbed with the mother of all hangovers, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth, the room tilting even though you were lying perfectly still. You groaned and forced your eyes open a slit. That was when you saw her. Jess was curled up on her side in your bed, sheet slipped down to her waist, bare back rising and falling with slow, peaceful breaths. Her dark hair spilled across your pillow like spilled ink. One of her legs was tangled with yours under the covers, warm skin against warm skin. “Oh no,” you rasped, voice cracking. “What the fuck did we do?” Before you could even sit up, a soft chuckle came from the doorway. You jerked your head toward the sound and there stood Zach, shirtless in just his basketball shorts, arms crossed, wearing the biggest, most satisfied grin you’d ever seen on him.