Bad Boy Chemistry

61. Void

Charlie's POV

I woke up on Tom's couch, head pounding and stomach twisting.

Despite feeling as if I had just crawled out of hell, I felt different, oddly better.

Clayton was snoring from the recliner as I sat up and held my head in my hands, groaning. I slowly rose from the couch, daylight creeping in through the curtains and causing me to squint my eyes.

I kinda wish I didn't drink last night.

But my throbbing headache and dried out throat was nothing compared to the mortification I felt when I remembered I had drunk texted Ace last night.

Crap!

I quickly scanned around the room for my phone, starting with the couch. The last thing I remembered was sitting on the couch, listening to Tom and Clayton's attempt at karaoke before I pulled my phone out to text Ace, then nothing.

Fudge!

I pulled up the cushions from the couch and searched beneath them, finding lost coins and small pieces of plastic, but no phone.

I turned around and looked on the coffee table. Empty cups, near empty bottles of alcohol and scrunched up cans of beer. But no phone.

I officially hate drunk Charlie.

I mean, I know I still have a brand new phone at home that I hadn't had time to set it up yet, but my old phone had everything on it!

My entire life is in that thing.

I crouched down onto the ground and looked beneath the couch. How far could it have gone?

I cautiously reached my hand under the couch, scared that something might be living under there and will end up biting of a finger. But, I'd rather lose a finger than my phone, so....

After finally finding my phone underneath the couch, I quickly unlocked it and started reading...

Axe. Damn, was I seriously that drunk last night? I would have blamed it on autocorrect, but seeing as the entire text was written in a bunch of gibberish, I doubt that would be the reason. My autocorrect must've been off.

I almost couldn't decipher it.

Let me just make things simple by translating my drunk texts into actual words.

Ace.

I really like you, and I know that you like me too.

You're probably scared and confused, and I get that.

But until you know what you want, I don't think we should hang out anymore.

It hurts.

I smacked myself in the forehead.

Seriously Charlie? You wanted to get drunk to forget your problems, not make new ones.

Why the hell am I so pathetic?

Just a stupid and pathetic loser.

I quickly and quietly gathered my things and headed out the door, silently closing the door behind me so I didn't accidentally wake anyone up.

All I wanted to do right now was to return home and have a long shower, because I smelt like grog and overnight sweat. Not a great combination.

After that, I will get something extremely greasy to eat to subside the effects of this stupid hangover and maybe chug a few aspirins with a gallon of fresh orange juice.

The walk home was cold and unsteady.

I swear I could have fainted at any given moment. But luckily, I made it home in one piece.

"How was your night?" My mom ambushed me the second I got in the door, like she was waiting for me to get home.

Sheesh.

I can totally pull off being sober.

"Sweet." I gave a smile.

"You look terrible! We're you up all night playing video games again?"

If by playing video games you mean getting drunk, then yes.

"Uh, yes?" I answered her.

"Charlie, what have I told you about staying up all night? It's bad for your health and it messes with your brain."

I mentally rolled my eyes, because actually rolling my eyes would not only hurt, but it would earn me a smack to the skull.

"Yes, I know. Can I go shower now?" I asked.

"Fine, go and have a shower. Then I want you to rest that brain of yours." She hugged me.

Crap.

She's going to smell the alcohol on me and then she's going to beat the living hell out of me.

She released me and smiled before going into the kitchen. I let out a relieved sigh.

Thank god.

I quickly rushed upstairs and hopped into the shower.

I turned the lever, allowing slightly-less-than-warm water to douse me.

My wet hair drooped down over my face as water streamed down my bare skin.

~

One long shower, a nice and greasy meal of bacon and eggs, some aspirin and a few hours of napping later worked a miracle on my hangover.

Not so much that it completely relieved me of it, but enough that my head no longer throbbed.

I lie awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I felt empty inside, hollow. I hated feeling like this. It was excruciating and it was lonely.

But I won't let the void win. I was done feeling crappy all the time, and I'm done being sad and pathetic.

I needed to focus on myself. On my future. On my plans to get into an Ivy League school after I had graduated. I know, I don't graduate for another year, but acceptance letters don't just appear out of nowhere.

I wanted to be happy, more than anything.

But sometimes happiness remains out of reach, always an inch away.

__________________

Sorry this chapter is so short, and that it came out later than I said it would.

I had a pretty busy day today so I didn't get much time to write.

Anyway, I hope you like it.