How Do I Mend?

Chapter 5: Distance, Denial, Dejection - Pt 1

Type was thankful that the following day was still the weekend. He was curious, however, as to why he felt hungover that morning. More than hungover, he felt like he'd gotten hit by a train. Type always enjoyed drinking, but he tended to have control over himself, so why was this day any different?

More curious was the fact that he could only recall vague details from the previous night. He knew he was going to have to talk to Techno and Champ to sort out the events of the party.

Type was bothered by the blanks in his memory. He remembered the beginning of the party, meeting the team, and all of the other students arriving to fill the house. He also remembered having a second drink and joking around with his teammates. They had all been having a good time. After that point, the evening started becoming more of a daze.

Trying to piece together the puzzle was starting to leave feelings of distaste in the pit of his stomach. What on earth happened last night?

Moreover, why could Type not remember anything? He needed to sort this out sooner rather than later. Pushing past his splitting headache, he went to take a shower in hopes of his head receiving some clarity.

Type entered the dining hall around noon for some food. There were very few people present, giving him a slight sense of relief. He was not in the mood or head space to be around a lot of people. Grabbing a burger, he settled into one of the smaller tables by the windows.

He sat with his back to the rest of the hall, in an attempt to discourage other people from approaching him and put in his headphones as an additional defense. Upon finishing the burger, he went and grabbed some more food and settled back in, feeling some relief of having food in his stomach. About halfway through the second plate, Type felt a tap on his shoulder. Startled, he turned in annoyance, a bit more forceful than intended. '

"You're Type, right?" a young blonde woman asked hesitantly. He nodded in response while pulling his headphones out of his ears. Her face laced with concern and apprehension before she continued speaking. "Can I join you? I really need to ask you something..."

Though confused, he motioned to the seat adjacent to him. The strange girl settled in, the look of worry resolutely pasted to her features. Type was unsure as to how she knew him or what her purpose was, but her concern seemed genuine. Perhaps this woman would have some insight that could help fill the gaps in his memory. It was worth a try, right?!

"Firstly," she began, "how do you feel?" Type was taken aback. He still had no idea who she was, but she was asking after his well-being. She must know something about the previous evening, he thought. Before he could respond, she started speaking again.

"My name is Claire. I'm friends with Tharn." Type's interest was piqued. "Last night, you seemed unwell. He tried to make sure no one saw, but I saw Tharn catch you after his turn for Spin the Bottle. He left with you for a bit and then came back and was acting strangely. I don't know all of the details, only what I saw. What's odder is that he would not stop muttering your and Mark's names during breakfast this morning."

"WHAT?!" That was all Type could press out. His outburst attracted the attention of all the students filing into the, once empty, dining hall. Type lowered his voice. "I don't understand. Honestly, I don't remember what happened last night. Can you tell me everything you know?"

After a pregnant pause, Claire told him all of the events to which she had been privy. The game, his near collapse, and the odd conclusion of the evening with Champ, Tharn, and Mark.

----------------------

After the conversation with Claire, Type aimlessly wandered around campus. He was trying to process all of the information she told him. Why would Champ and Tharn have any reason to hold hostility toward his senior. No, there must be some explanation for what was happening.