Twenty-Nine // J.G.

twenty-one.

Day 18.

     M A R L E Y     

Waking up the next morning was a surprise that I never wanted to experience ever again. With the sun peeking through the blinds and slicing me right across the face, I realized three things:

1. I was in Jack's room.
2. Somebody's (I'm hoping to be Jack's) arms were struggling to secure me within them.
3. My body felt like I had jumped off a ten-story building.

I rolled over to face the person beside me, only to realize the mistake of my actions as a piercing ache brewed behind my temples.

"Jack," I hissed, whacking him on the forehead before violently shaking his muscular arm.

"Well, ow." He groaned, feverishly rubbing at the area of infliction. "Why'd you do that?!"

"Why am I in your bed? And wearing a dress!" I almost shouted, powering through the headache that I was causing myself to get to the answer I anticipated.

"You've been sleeping with me for like a week, Mar." He answered in a daze, illustrating the fact that he was still half-asleep, so I shook him again and again until he opened his eyes.

"That doesn't answer why I'm wearing this thing!" I grabbed at the material that clung to my body, my eyebrows knitting together as I tried to recall how we could have ended up in this situation. To my dismay, the last thing I remembered about last night was watching America's Next Top Model. So why was I hungover, in a tight dress, with Jack clinging to me? Although, the last one was nothing out of the ordinary. For him, at least.

"We went to the club, remember?" He started, a yawn slinking out of his throat as he sat up against the headboard, rubbing his face. "Then you got drunk and kissed me and, well– the rest is rated R."

The already foul taste in my mouth worsened with the addition of this information, and I felt my breathing increase, my chest rapidly pulsating as a feeling of dread washed over my aching body. Until I realized how gullible I would be if I believed that.

"You're so full of bullshit!" Using the last of my strength, I reached behind me and grabbed my pillow, making a full swing to hit him square in the face. He started to laugh, which confirmed my doubts and only angered me further.

"I'm sorry, Mar, I had to. You should've seen your face! You looked whiter than the bed sheets." His body shook with amusement until I tried to get off the bed and ended up falling right back down. "Whoa, hey, you okay?" He crawled over to my side of the bed and coiled his arm around my shoulders.

"I'm fine." I seethed, shrugging him off and making another attempt at standing up, using the bedside table for support rather than taking his extended hand. Every ounce of hatred towards Jack that had almost washed away came crashing back, so much so that I couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him right now.

"Marley, come on. I was joking around!" He pleaded as he followed me, keeping an eye on my current condition of imbalance.

"Well it wasn't funny, Jack." I frowned, wrinkles forming across my skin as a result of my hardened expression. "Taking advantage of somebody is not a joke."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was being a dick." He apologized.

"Hmph." I brushed him off, proceeding to the bathroom to begin the dreaded routine to clean my mouth up, and as always, he pattered after me like a lost puppy. "Hey, how come you're not suffering?" I observed.

"Because I didn't drink." He shrugged, leaning against the door frame while I readied my toothbrush. I scoffed, finding it hard to believe that he avoided drinks and I probably downed at least ten of them from the way my hangover pierced at my throbbing head. What was this, an alternate universe?