Lavender

Chapter Six

I wake up to the putrid stench of vomit. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and turn on my side on the twin bed. My foggy eyes land on the unfortunate sight of Cammie puking in a metal bucket and Daphne sitting beside her, rubbing her back in a soothing motion. I'm not even surprised she's this sick. Before I plead for us to leave the party, she was chugging straight from a vodka bottle. It took Daphne, me, and Jay, the guy who saved my life at the drag race thing to pull the bottle out of her grasp and take her back here. Seeing how calm Daphne is and taking care of her girlfriend, I'm guessing she didn't drink as much. Cammie hiccups and wails and vomits even harder. I cover my nose and mouth with my hand in a lame attempt to block the strong smell.

Noticing my disgusted stare, Daphne looks over at me and smiles somberly. "Good morning. I tried to take her to the bathroom, but she puked outside the room... I'll clean that up soon."

"It's fine." I sigh and walk over to the window and open it to allow fresh air to come in. I stick my head out the window and don't move for five minutes as I take deep breaths. I didn't drink anything last night, but my head is killing me. I knew the blaring music would give me a headache. And my stomach whirls at the stench of Cammie's vomit, causing me to feel sick. I inhale and exhale thoroughly for ten more minutes before sitting back down on my bed and raking my hands through my hair.

I need to get out of here, or Daphne will have to take care of me, too.

"I'm going to get breakfast. I hear eggs are one of the foods that can help cure a hangover," I say and stand up. "Would you like anything special? Coffee, maybe?" I think she's been up all night keeping an eye on Cammie. I feel sorry for the poor girl, but she doesn't look like she minds at all.

"Coffee sounds amazing, thank you." She smiles appreciatively. "I don't think she'll be able to keep anything down, but she needs liquids in her, so water would be perfect. Peppermint of ginger tea should help, too. Oh, and since you're going out, do you mind picking up a few medicines that will help?" She says and

"Of course. You can text me everything you need," I tell her while putting on my shoes. It feels wrong going out in public without showering, but I'll be quick, and I need at least two hours in the shower until I feel clean again. I reach for my phone on the bedside table but come up empty. That's odd... I get on my knees and look under the bed, figuring it probably dropped last night when we were hauling Cammie in here. But it isn't under there either.

"What are you looking for?" Daphne asks and lays her girlfriend on her bed, brushing her messy hair out of her face.

"My phone. Have you seen it?" I ask and pluck my purse my dresser. I distinctly remember sending Wyatt a text about hating the party last night and putting my phone back in here, but it's not in here. Just the book I brought to the party, strawberry-flavored chapstick, my wallet, and my keys. Maybe I left it at the house... I really don't want to go back there, but it's not like I have much of a choice. What if I dropped it and some thief already stole it? I don't have a lot of contacts on there, save for my parents, Wyatt, and my elderly neighbor Ms. Williams, but I have pictures of memories I cherish.

"Nope, I haven't seen it. You could have left it in Jay's car, though," she points out.

"Do you mind calling him and asking if he could quickly check for me?"

"Of course, hold on." As she pulls out her phone, I think of where I could have possibly dropped it. Inside the crowded living room. Outside on the porch. In the kitchen. On the floor of Holden's bedroom—

Wait...

"Did I have my cardigan on when we left the party last night?" I ask her.

"Jay says he doesn't see your phone in his car," she tells me, but hearing my question, she ponders for a moment and shakes her head no. "No, you weren't wearing one. Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I know where it is," I say and shoulder my purse, headed for the door. "I'll be back, but still text me what you need." I carefully step over the puddle of vomit, swallowing my own that threatens to form. This is why people shouldn't drink; you involuntarily puke everywhere.

On the way to Holden's house, I revel in the breath of fresh air and wish I could bottle it up for when I get back to the dorm. But for now, I'm basking in the warm breeze against my skin and ruffling my hair. I push the inky strands behind my ears and quicken my pace. I want this to be quick. I just need to get there, grab my cardigan, and go back to the dorm. Cammie's awful stench clings onto my dress. I force my mind to recall the walk there and the drive back to find the house. I walk around in circles and enter a neighborhood before spotting a familiar deli shop and turning onto the residential block. The large identical houses look more and more familiar.

When I finally arrive at the house, I'm not surprised by the plastic cups cluttering the lawn and girls in heels wobbling out of the front open door. I bypass a group of girls with makeup running down their faces and enter the house. The place is a mess, from the people sitting against walls and sprawled out across the floor, to shattered glass trailing from the living room to the dining room. The air alone is a smell in its own category, definitely worse than my dorm room. This will take the whole weekend to clean up. I will myself not to sweep up the beer bottles or wipe down the alcohol dripping on the walls. I step on a few red plastic cups, crunching them beneath my feet, and navigate through sleeping bodies to get to the staircase. There are two people loudly snoring on the steps I have to climb over.

The second floor isn't as disastrous as downstairs, but there are still sleeping bodies everywhere. It's like a battlefield with mines. Reaching Holden's bedroom, I'm so excited to get my things and leave that I open the door and shove it open. But my haste proves to be a mistake when my eyes land on Holden sprawled out on the bed with Sophia straddling his lap and kissing his neck, and she's topless. I only see her bare back, but I look away quickly, not wanting to be rude and see anything else.

Sophia stops and turns around, her hand covering her chest. "What the fuck? You can't just barge in like this! We are in the middle of something," she snaps.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry—" I squeak.

Holden sits up on his elbows and stares right at me. His hair is tousled and covering his forehead. He's shirtless as well and he doesn't seem to care. My eyes immediately move to his hard stomach and the light trail of hair leading down to his black boxers. The front of the thin fabric is raised up, and my cheeks flare up in embarrassment. But that doesn't stop my eyes from scanning the random black and white tattoos scattered across the skin above his boxers. I'm staring at the labyrinth inked on his torso, when I hear Holden's voice.

"Can I help you, purple?" His smile is nauseatingly smug.

Flushed from head to toe, I look around the room and spot my cardigan laying on the floor. "I came for my cardigan. I'll be out of your head now," I promise and scramble over to the piece of clothing and my phone lying next to it.

"I didn't know anyone wore cardigans to parties," he remarks.

"I didn't know people still made mixtapes anymore," I say, and he surprisingly laughs. The sound is heavenly and makes me smile. I like his laugh, I'd love to hear it more often. I love the way his eyes almost squeeze shut and the skin beside his almond-shaped eyes crinkles, and how less intimidating and annoying he is. I would love to stick around and make him laugh again, but Sophia glares at me, and I say a quick goodbye and rush out of the room, closing the door behind me.