Bet On It | H. Styles

xxv

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Maybe drinking wasn't always the answer.

I definitely didn't miss waking up at noon with a splitting headache that could only be cured by plenty of water, coffee, and a taco.

I need a lot of tacos. Preferably from Taco Bell.

I had woken up maybe fifteen minutes ago but I never tempted to open my eyes or remove myself from the comfort of my bed. My comforter was pulled over my head, guarding me from the blaring sun that shined through the curtains. I knew eventually I'd have to get up, but my bed was heaven that engulfed and embraced me, holding me hostage from the reality that is my life.

The sun shined through my curtains, emitting an orange glow through my white comforter and my eyelids. I heaved out a sigh, finally gaining the courage to get up.

Pushing the blanket off of my body, I sat up in bed knuckling my eyes to get rid of any sign of sleep. My head pounded, letting me know how angry it was at me for drinking so much last night.

After my conversation with Ethan, I lost track of what drinks I had, no memory of anything else that happened within the last twelve hours. The only thing I do remember is tripping up the stairs on my way to my room while singing "Dancing Queen" by ABBA.

Hearing commotion from downstairs, I placed my feet onto the cold wood floor and made my way downstairs to get some water, coffee, and Advil. Sadly, there are no tacos here, nor are there any Taco Bell's within a close enough distance that I'd be willing to walk or bike ride over to. Also, the thought of food made me nauseous, so perhaps eating wasn't the best idea.

Holding onto the railing while walking down the stairs – to make sure I don't fall down the steps this time – I spot Patty and Derek making breakfast, or I guess lunch. Looking over into the living room, Liam was passed out on the couch with his arms tucked under the pillow his head was on and the throw blanket half on his body and half on the floor. He looked not in the slightest comfortable whilst laying on that couch, and I wondered as to why he wasn't in his room.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," Patty called from the kitchen at the notice of my presence.

"Hi," I mumbled, shuffling my feet across the floor and over to the them.

"I know you must be dealing with a massive hangover, especially after the night you had, so I did you the favor of making some coffee, pouring some water, and getting you some tacos," she smiled, pushing the Taco Bell bag over to me.

"No way!" I beamed, immediately yanking open the bag and taking out the tacos. Opening the wrapping, my mouth watered at the sight of the juicy meat, cheese, lettuce, and tomato heaven. So much for being nauseous. I took a bite, a low moan escaping my mouth as my day has been made so much better.

"You're welcome. The journey it took to get these, you should be grateful forever."

"Oh, trust me, I am," I sighed peacefully, already finishing up my first taco.

"Patty, why don't you ever do things like this for me?" Derek questioned, placing his hand on  his chest over his heart.

"Because I can't stand you," Patty shrugged, finishing up the salad she's been making.

"Well, you weren't saying that just a few hours ago now were you?"

I sent Derek a glare, not wanting to stop eating my tacos to go throw up at the thought of them having sex. I saw it once, I don't ever need to hear about it.

"And that's exactly why I can't stand you."

They continued their little bickering arguments for the remainder of lunch, a tiny food fight emerging due to it. As soon as it started, Patty regretted it. She didn't realize how ruthless Derek would be, squirting honey into her hair. In all fairness she did start it. She promised me she would clean the area as soon as she got out of the shower, running upstairs to her room. I shook my head at their childishness, noticing my headache to have simmered down a little. But that little bit of relief made me feel a lot better, and now I was ready to get on with the rest of my day.