I Shouldn't Have | Bojan Cvjetićanin

9. #momentofweakness

Neža's POV

I swore off any alcohol after waking up the day after Jure's birthday party. I had the absolute worst hangover of my life. My head was pounding, my throat was so dry it was aching. And the night of I made the worst decision not to put any water near the bed for the morning after. Technically I also made the worst decision not to drink any water on the night itself, or to drink as much as I did, but alas.

We had a great time. I had expected so much worse from a possible encounter with Bojan, or any of the boys from his stupid band. The first time I ran into one of them, or rather two, Bojan and Jan, went as bad as expected. But the second encounter, with Bojan bandaging my hand, was something that I expected to go so much worse, but in the end, wasn't all that bad.

I stayed true to my promise and didn't touch another drop of alcohol for the next two weeks to come. That was until I got the official call that I had in fact graduated for my Bachelor's Degree in Economics with honors.

The decision was quickly made for me and my two best friends to go clubbing that night to celebrate. My liver would've had enough time to recover by now, wouldn't it? Like any good club night, the night started with predrinks at my apartment, but not before we got ready together.

We tried on so many dresses, before I ended up settling on a black mini dress with lots of glitter all over to represent the festive mood we were in, paired with some red killer heels. We curled our hair to give it volume and did our makeup, the red lipstick was the finishing touch I needed to look and feel like a true bombshell. Even though I had graduated, I looked the furthest thing from a scholar, but that wasn't the look I was going for in the slightest. No, I had achieved this major milestone in my life, and I deserved to look the part.

We did shots, drank vodka sodas, played some drinking games, before we called a taxi to take of to Ljubljana's nightlife hub. We went all out. Any other time, we would've just hit the dance floor and danced the night away. But tonight, we arranged a table, a premium bottle of vodka and the sodas that we got along with them. I poured us our first drinks as we stood on the club's balcony. We danced to the music, having the time of our lives.

From the balcony I spotted one of my classmates on the dancefloor and excused myself from my two girls to head to my friend on the dancefloor. I met Sara in our second year of uni, when we had a tutorial group for the first time. I tightly hugged her from behind. "Saraaaaaaaa. It's so good to see you." I exclaimed in excitement. "Do you have some good news as well?"

Sara returned the hug with the same excitement. "Yes! We graduated bitch!" She said and took my hand to guide me to the bar for a celebratory shot before we danced for a little while longer, and I invited her back to the balcony to continue the party with my friends.

Once back at our table, my eye instantly fell on the table exactly on the other side of the balcony. There was no doubt about it, the guy with the white shirt and the mop of brown hair was Bojan Fucking Cvjetićanin. He was facing the other way, but I had seen about enough of him to recognize him from the back. And of course it helped that two of his obscenely tall band mates, Kris and Martin, were standing on either side of his.

Somehow after that man decided to barge back into my life he started to pop up pretty much everywhere I went. And nearly every time, I had been drinking. It wasn't like I hadn't seen him in the meantime, but once every three of four months didn't compare to every two weeks. And truthfully, that was probably only because I only left my apartment to get groceries the past two weeks.

I didn't notice I was staring until Bojan turned around and the two of us looked at each other, neither of us making any movement to look away. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Sara spoke again. "What will you be up to next year?"