Harrison Woods is a 17-year-old girl attending Arbor Coast High, a boarding school in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her dark past including her rocky relationship with her parents and her esteemed older brother's suicide are the reasons she landed herself at...
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I woke up the next morning with no recollection of where the hell I was. Although, I could smell the pancakes before anything else registered: the warm, buttery, sweet scent that created an image of fluffy goodness in my mind. But this was not my dorm room. I sat up and inspected the room more, but it was hard to focus because of the pounding sensation at the back of my head. I looked over at the nightstand which had some Advil, water, and a note sitting on it. The note read:
Harrison, I hope this helps your headache (I'm assuming you have one). It's just Advil, so it'll help some, but that's all I had. Anyways, I had to run off to a meeting with the Dean. Feel free to have some breakfast or head home if you need to. Just text or call me whenever. -Otto :)
I reached down to grab the pills and the water bottle. I drank some water to help down the pills since I had never been able to swallow pills dry (only psychopaths could do that, I was sure). Setting the water bottle back on the nightstand, I realized just how disgusting I felt. Every time I was even the slightest bit hungover, I felt so dirty and gross. I so badly wanted to hop in the shower and wash off all of my regrets from last night. From that first glass of wine to throwing up in the garden in front of La Belle's. But I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to take a shower, so I decided I could do that when I got back to my dorm room.
But how was I supposed to get there? I didn't have my car with me. Otto was gone, so obviously him driving me was out of the picture, and there was no way I could call West and ask him to come get me. Not after how he screamed at me over the phone yesterday.
So I slowly got up out of the bed, leaving the room and turning towards the direction of the kitchen. I could smell those damn pancakes and I was going to seek them out if it was the last thing I did. I walked towards the kitchen like it was some sort of a mission: Find the suspect (pancakes) and get the suspect to surrender (into my mouth).
When I turned the corner into the kitchen, a startled Jason screamed and dropped the spatula he was holding, splattering pancake mix everywhere. "Jesus mother of fuck! What the hell?! You scared the pancake batter right out of my hands!" He exclaimed, bending over to grab the spatula off of the floor.
"Sorry," I muttered and as much as I wanted to laugh, I held back the temptation.
"What are you doing here anyway? Have you been here all night? Am I losing it?" He rambled on. "Maybe I am. I don't know, I am kind of hungover."
"Do you even need me for this conversation?" I asked and took a seat on one of the bar stools.
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Why are you here?"
"I guess I've been here all night, I don't really remember. I have a pretty crappy hangover, too," I said.
"Is that what Otto was doing out so late?" He asked.
"Doing what?"
"You," He grinned and then laughed, flipping a pancake in the process.
I rolled my eyes. "Haha, very funny, Jason." I reached over to steal a pancake from his plate, setting it on an empty one in front of me.
