Fighting First Love

Surprise, Surprise

Attn: Hey guys. In case you hadn't received my message, there were some concerns and opinions on the last chapter where a couple readers thought I struggled when writing a male's pov because I made Blayne act like a "gay coward" and caleb "obsessive". I was in no way offended by this, so I hope those of you who disagree with this aren't either. I'm sure there might be a few more of you who agree and if that's the case I added a comment on the Bonus Chapter (Caleb) explaining why I wrote my characters this way, so feel free to hunt it down and check it out. As always, thank you for all your comments and continued support of my story:)

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Pounding.

That’s all I felt and heard, before I even had a chance to open my eyes.

It reminded me of the time we taught our after school kids to make instruments out of recycled goods, and they all pounded away on their coffee can drums, only this time my head was the drum.

Lifting my left eye lid, I was grateful to see that someone had shut the drapes last night so only a faint glow of sunlight filled my room. I cautiously opened my other eye and stared up at my ceiling. Okay, the pounding abated slightly, but now I had a terrible urge to pee.

I sat up and got off the bed, instantly realizing my mistake as a new urge arose, I needed to puke. I scrambled forward, tripping over a body in the process and earning a groan from Leah. “Sorry!” I apologized before getting back up and making it just in time to bow down to the porcelain god. While I got out whatever remaining alcohol was in my system, I remembered why I hardly drank. The morning after sucked.

I flushed the toilet and leaned against the bathtub. After a few breaths, and once I was assured my legs wouldn’t give out beneath me, I stood up to wash my face and brush my teeth. When my eyes caught my reflection in the mirror, I nearly screamed. My eye liner was smudged, giving me that raccoon look, I had pillow creases on the right side of my face, and my hair looked like a bird was nesting in it. In one word, I looked trashed!

A simple face wash and teeth brushing wasn’t enough, I needed a shower. Slipping off my dress and underwear, I got in the tub and switched on the faucets to a nice warm setting and washed away the alcohol and stench of vomit. Twenty minutes later I was back to normal, if you didn’t count the constant pounding in my head. That would require some aspirin, too bad it was in the hallway closet. 

I stepped out of my bathroom and hunted down some clothes. I wasn’t planning on doing much today, being hung over and all, so I slipped into a simple pair of black denim shorts and an old t-shirt of my brother’s that hung a little off one shoulder. I pulled my hair away from my face with a rubber band and went to check on Leah and Keri. 

There was a problem with that idea, though, because from the single lump on my bedroom floor, I could tell one of my friends was MIA. I had already determined the lump to be Leah, since I trampled her on my run to the bathroom. Shaking her awake, I asked, “Hey Leah, where’s Keri?”

From under the blanket, she put a hand on each of her ears and mumbled, “Not so loud.”

I forgot, she would be suffering from a worse hangover than I was. Stifling my giggles, I whispered, “Sorry, but where’s Keri? Didn’t she come here with us?”