Impulsive

13. Callie

I wake up with a throbbing headache and an already upset stomach. Once I actually open my eyes, I noticed I have no idea where I am. Maybe at the frat party still but then where's James? I groan, feeling myself about to throw up. I quickly scan the room in search of a bathroom, running to it once I spot it in the corner.

As I'm emptying my stomach into the toilet, I feel someone move my hair out of the way. James, I think until the man behind me called out.

"Nik, grab a glass of water please."

I froze, instantly. I stopped throwing up, I even think I stopped breathing. Everything's coming back to me now and I dread turning around to face them. I wish I could be anywhere but here right now but on the second hand I'm glad they were the ones I ended up with last night.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Dean asks as I finally turn around, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "Here, drink some of this." He grabbed the glass from Dominik's hands and puts it in mine. I obey, desperately needing to get the taste of whatever I ate last night out of my mouth.

"Why don't you lay down and rest for a few more hours."

I just nod and dean helps me to my feet, leading me back to the bed. I think this is probably the worst I've ever felt after a night out but then again it wasn't just a night out. It was a few weeks out. I don't say anything as they both tuck me in, but they didn't say anything either. And it wasn't until they shut off the lights and shut the door that I fell back to sleep asleep.

I woke up a few hours later, feeling a lot better. I just laid in bed staring at the ceiling for a while not ready to face them. I was defiantly sober but too sober to talk to them right now. Part of me wishes I could just sneak out the window and avoid it, but I know that's probably not the best solution. After a while, I got up from the bed finally building the courage to leave the room and face whatever waits for me out there.

I walk down the hallway, following the sound of voices to see Dean and Dominik both sitting at the kitchen island. They turn towards me as soon as I walk into the room and the look on their faces tells me this part isn't going to be fun.

"You are feeling any better, Callie?" Dominik asks, voice giving away no emotion. I nod, looking down at my hands. I don't know what it is about these two men, but I always felt so small when their eyes were on me.

"Good. Sit." He says, pointing to the chair that's across from them, on the other side of the island. I do as he asked and sit in the chair, still fumbling with my hands as they sit in my lap. "I think it's time for us to talk, don't you?" I shrug, Ya it probably is but I didn't really want to admit it right now.

"What happened last night, Callie?"

"I went to a party." I shrug, shivering as I look up to see him glaring down at me.

"You could have been arrested, Cal," Dean says, finally speaking for the first time since I walked into the room.

I don't know if it's the drugs I took last night that is coming full circle, the binder I've been on for the last few weeks, or the disappointment laced in his voice but it felt like everything just hit me all at once. Before I knew it, tears were spilling down my cheeks and I couldn't stop them, even with how much I hated crying like this in front of people. I had no idea why I was crying like this or more precisely, I couldn't pinpoint just one reason why this was happening.

"It'll be okay, Cal," Dean says as he's suddenly behind me, pulling me into his arms. We sat like this for a while until I could calm down just enough to get my breathing evened out. "Better?"

I nod, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-

"Callie." Dominik interrupts his voice as stern as ever, making my head snap up to look at him. "When's the last day you were sober?"

Dean's arms unwrap from my waist as I gulp, not ready to answer this question. How can I openly admit that the last time I was sober was when I was out to lunch with them? And that I couldn't stop thinking about what they brought up at the table and that I was doing whatever I could to get them out of my head for the past few weeks.

"The day I went to lunch with you guys," I muttered as I look down at my hands, picking at my fingernails.

"Jesus, Callie!" He says, shaking his head. He doesn't yell or shout, just says it with disappointment in his voice. I think I'd rather him yell at me, it's what I'm used to anyways.