Stuck In Savannah

11. The Mess I Made

Chapter 11: The Mess I Made

I woke up in an unfamiliar place. In a bed I’d never slept in before surrounded by things that weren’t mine. And I was all alone…in an apartment I’d never been to before. To say I was confused would be to put it lightly. Inwardly, I was freaking out like never before.

My heart (and head) pounding, I sat up in bed and took a quick look around, trying to remember how exactly I’d gotten here. Or more importantly, who had gotten me here. The last person I remembered seeing was-

Tyson.

I remembered him pulling me up to my wobbly feet, taking my hand and taking me away from the college party Hannah and Margot had taken me to, but everything after that was a bit of a blur.

A total blur, in fact.

As I glanced down at myself, I all but sighed in relief when I realized I was still wearing my last night’s clothes, so nothing that bad could’ve happened to me…except I didn’t really remember much about last night. When I looked outside though, I realized it was still dark, which meant I couldn’t have been out for long.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slowly got up, hoping I wouldn’t get dizzy from the effort. Then I started walking around, straining my ears to hear something…or someone, anything to let me know I was not alone.

There was a framed photo of Tyson and what assumed to be his family sitting on the nightstand next to the bed so that made me feel a little better, knowing that at least I knew who I was with.

If only there was any sign of the boy in question.

I’d dreamt of finding myself in Tyson’s bedroom back when I was a freshman, but it was never under such circumstances. 

The reality was that I was freaked out of my mind and scared witless because my memory was shot.

I stepped out of his room and walked into his living room, turning on the lights.

“Tyson?” I tentatively called out, but got no response.

Where the hell was he?

But what was more, where the hell was I?

I’d just picked up a photo from the bookshelf that had him posing with a pretty girl with light brown hair that fell over her shoulders and the biggest, most expressive hazel eyes I’d ever seen as they both smiled at the camera when the front door opened.

Tyson froze, his hand still on the doorknob as he saw me standing in the middle of his living room, obviously snooping around his things.

I flushed and quickly put the photo down, hoping he wouldn’t comment on it.

“Oh, good,” he sighed in relief as he closed the door behind him and I realized he was clutching my black leather jacket in his left hand, “you’re up.”

“Where are we?” I blurted out, blinking back at him.

“My place,” Tyson confirmed, then came towards me and held out my jacket, “I would’ve taken you home,” he started to say, then shrugged sheepishly at me, “but I didn’t know where you lived and you passed out the moment you got into the car…so I took you here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I washed your jacket and went to the pharmacy to get you aspirin,” he explained, smiling warmly down at me as I took my jacket from his hands and flushed deep red, thinking about all the trouble he’d gone through, all because of me.

“Do you want some?” he asked and I snapped my head back up to look at him, having not followed what he’d said to me.

“What?” I asked confusedly.