Shattered (Continuation of: The Chase) ▹ Ashton Irwin

Chapter Thirty Two

I stumbled on the sidewalk on that surprisingly hot Saturday night, wondering what the hell I was doing. I don't remember much about the past couple of hours, except for the fact that I just really didn't give a fuck about anything. I drank, I danced, I drank again, I hooked Leila up with a guy, and then I drank the last of the supply of alcohol in this random person's house. That was basically my whole night, to be completely honest with you. We weren't necessarily invited to this person's house (I don't even know their name or if they even know mine) but we both recieved a lot of warm welcomes when we entered the house, ready to fuck shit up. People recognized me, and they said hi to me. They looked happy to see me there, especially when Leila and I seemed to have gotten everybody a little bit more wasted, and little bit more care-free.

After I had left Ashton's this morning, I was really relieved to see that I could just take a bus to Leila's and be able to go to a party just a couple hours later. I was in desperare need of forgetting, and that is what I did. For a short amount of time I was drunk, and I was able to completely forget the pounds of unreasonable guilt that has been on my shoulders all day. I didn't want to have Ashton's sadness putting me down for hours, so I was lucky enough to have gone here tonight to get smashed.

But now, I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I was dizzy in the head; staggering on my feet and mumbling random words. I had walked out of the house just a couple minutes ago, and now I wandered aimlessly on the sidewalk. I know this house is near our school, but I had no clue on how I could get home. Well, I really can't go home. If I did, my half-drunken self would totally expose itself to my mother. And that would suck, obviously.

My stomach awkwardly churned and my head spun, while I tried to think of what to do. I could call Ashton, but when in my lucidly drunk state, I don't think anything good would come out of being around him. Especially after this morning; that freaked me out a little. The way he sounded so desperate and hopeless, it was scaring me. I know I can say I can handle his emotions, but not when he's grabbing onto me and pleading that I stay with tears in his eyes. I still just don't understand it. I don't understand why he was like that, but I obviously didn't know what to do about it.

I concluded that I needed to put those thoughts about Ashton to the back of my mind, because I think getting out of here is my first priority. I slumped down onto the grass of someone's front yard, and dug through my back pocket to pull my phone out. I unlocked it, and started to scroll through my contacts. I had no idea who to call...I mean, I have a group of friends that could pick me up, but for some reason my finger pressed the last person I wanted to see right now.

"Hello?" He picked up after about 10 seconds.

"Michael," I mumbled, holding my head that was going to start aching pretty soon.

"Brooke?" he sounded tired. It was past midnight. "The fuck do you want?"

"I-I need your help," I laughed. "Can you pick me up?"

"Me, pick you up?" Michael asked. "Why?"

"Because I'm tispy as fuck and I can't go home." I replied.

"Wait what?"

"I was at a party," I explained what he probably could've concluded on his own. "Come on."

"Why don't you get Ashton to do it?"

"Because I can't!" I snapped. "Please?"

I didn't hear much from the other line, just Michael's breathing that was heavy with sleepiness. I wish I could feel bad for waking him up, but I really didn't. "...Fuck, fine," he finally spoke up. "Where are you?"

I looked up at the street sign and the address of the house I was sitting infront off, and I read the names and numbers off to him. I waited a few more silent moments, until he sighed.