The next morning I woke up to a floor cluttered with candy wrappers, popcorn bags, empty bottles (three!) of wine, and 14 missed calls. The usual result of a slumber party; except for the phone calls.
I was at my own house, with all my girls, who on Earth could be trying to contact me? Apparently the answer to that would be the Hunter brothers, my latest dilemma.
I called Jack back first, because we've been friends longest.
"Jack, what's wrong, I have all these missed calls from you and Ben."
"Its Patrick," he answered, and then he started to cry, "I'd just really appreciate if my best friend was here with me, nothing else."
"I'll be over in 10," I said, mumbling my destination to Emily who was barely conscience and pulling on a pair of shorts and tucking in the big t-shirt I had spent the night in, that would have to do for now.
I ran upstairs from the basement and scribbled a not to my parents, shoved my sneakers on, and ran to the Hunter's house.
I knocked on the door, and Ben opened it.
"What's going on?" I asked, grabbing him in a hug. He literally peeled me off his body and walked past me- out the door- like I wasn't even there.
"Jack, Mr. Hunter, Mrs. Hunter?" I called, walking into the kitchen.
"Oh, honey," said Mrs. Hunter, pulling me into a hug, "Jack needs you upstairs, he's not doing too well Kayla."
"Mrs. Hunter, I'm sorry, but what happened to Patrick? I don't know what's going on."
"Kayla, they can't find him."