August // Jeremiah Fisher

2. live to tell the tale

Jeremiah

In my life there's only been three instances so far that I've gotten so drunk I blacked out and woken up on a random persons couch.

The first time was my first Highschool party and I didn't know that beer before liquor did in fact get me sicker. I ended up on a dirty couch in the basement of some dude that was a super senior for the wrong reasons. He was arrested the next party for giving alcohol to minors. That part was also when I learned to run from the cops.

The second time was my 20th birthday party held by the frat and I ended up sleeping on the former frat presidents couch. I would come to regret that decision later when I broke out in hives the next day, apparently the couch was passed down from president to president since the 80s and it had never been cleaned. To this day I'm not sure what skin disease I picked up.

The third incident was today. Much like the previous times, I had zero memory of what happened the night before. The only memory that seemed still intact was the stupid wedding. 

Oh and Conrad. Fucking Conrad.

I didn't know who I was more mad at anymore, Belly for leading me on, Conrad for backstabbing me, or myself for being stupid enough to not see there was a love story. I just wasn't the main character. But thinking about it again wasn't going to do anything other than make me angry.

My eyes were crusted shut making it all the more exhausting to wake up. My body felt like it had been run over as every muscle in my body was sore beyond any post workout I've ever had. My liver felt a tinge of pain, gently reminding me of the borderline alcohol poisoning I almost gave myself. 

I forced myself off the soft couch to look around the brightly colored living room. Admittingly, I had no clue whose house this was. It was much cleaner and better decorated than any of my friends places, and much more girlier...

shit.

I didn't want to believe that I would have a one night stand, but considering this was the lowest point I've ever been I didn't want to put it past myself. I just needed to figure out who the girl was to maybe get some sort of idea of how last night ended.

My eyes roamed around the room to see if anything gave me a clue until a picture on the wall with a short haired brunette that started all of this.

Lacie Barone, Zeta Phi's social chair aka the girl I had hooked up with in Cabo while I was on a break from Belly.

aka: the stupid reason I proposed.

I felt a pit form in my stomach when the wheels began to turn in my head over the possibility that I slept with Lacie again. I shot out of the couch only to come to regret that decision as the nausea and pain came in full force.

Luckily on the table there was a glass of water, Gatorade and Tylenol neatly placed on the coffee table alongside my wallet and charging phone. I graciously downed the tylenol as fast as I could to try to get the worst hangover of my life to be slightly bearable.

I contemplated tuning on my phone, but knew the utter shit show of 'I told you so's' and sympathies over a failed engagement were something I didn't want to hear at the moment. For once in this entire summer, I just wanted fucking peace.

One of the doors slowly opened and as I anticipated the short haired brunette, out came a girl with much longer dark wavy hair and a more tanned complexion came through the door with gold framed glasses adorning her face.