FERLYN: Le Quatre, Book 1

That Misunderstanding

Ferlyn was stunned. It's like the world had stopped--Ferlyn's world, that is.

Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall, Ferlyn tore her gaze away from the two and turned her back, pretending to look at the school's Disc Jockey, Ethan.

He was hot, alright. But it didn't even matter to Ferlyn as she tried to ignore the pain in her chest.

"Hey Ferlyn, meet Monica." Trent called out.

Ferlyn sighed heavily, composing herself as she put on the best smile she could muster. The best fake smile.

"Hi." Monica greeted, but Ferlyn only nodded her head, not trusting her voice. A lump had formed in her throat, and she tried to swallow it gone, but to no avail, it stayed stuck like glue.

Monica grinned at Ferlyn, and the latter saw how Trent smiled at the bubbly girl.

Feeling the hot tears back again, Ferlyn excused herself quickly and dashed towards where her friends were, earning a knowing look from Monica and a confused one from Trent.

"Eula...." Ferlyn, teary-eyed, approached her dancing friend. Eula immediately broke away from Oker's hold and scurried towards her obviously hurt friend.

Ferlyn hugged Eula tightly. Eula gave Oker an apologetic smile and he seemed to get what Eula was trying to tell him. He smiled in understanding.

Eula took her phone from her purse while still trying to comfort Ferlyn.

"June, emergency...."

**

"Shit." Ferlyn woke up with her head pounding. She couldn't open her eyes as she let out a loud groan.

Soon enough, the left side of the bed dipped and a hand soothingly rubbed her back.

"Here, drink this." A voice--June's- boomed around the eerie room and she felt the cold tip of the glass press on her chapped lips.

Last night, they ditched the formal and Ferlyn went all out drinking at one of the famous elite bars in the city. Eula tried to stop her, but June and Maffi told otherwise and let their friend let loose.

Now, Ferlyn regretted drinking her brains out.

Ferlyn was not easy to get drunk, thanks to her high alcohol tolerance. The farthest she got to be was only tipsy. So for her to get drunk and passed out, it was a first.

Her head was pounding and her mouth tasted liked shit. Plus, her stomach was churning.

In cue, bile rose up Ferlyn's throat and she prepared herself for the blow. Thanks to June's fast reflexes, she was able to place the trash bin in front of her hung over friend and no vomit was spilled.