"I want to give you all the love you deserve."
___
Hadley Carter has struggled with her sexuality ever since childhood. She keeps her feelings hidden out of fear of judgement and not being accepted by oth...
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I'm fucked.
I wake up in a foreign room, with my head pounding and stomach churning. I sit up in a bed that I have no idea how I wound up in, vision hazy as I squint. The light shining into the room through the window across from me burns my eyes.
I clutch my head as I look around, wondering where the hell I am. I feel trapped within the navy walls that surround me as I take in my surroundings, glancing around at belongings that aren't mine. Catching a glimpse of myself, I find that I'm wearing a shirt I've never seen before and a gray comforter is haphazardly strewn over my legs.
When I look to my side and find a body laying next to me, I release a scream.
As a shrill yelp escapes my lips the person beside me jolts up, startled. I study the messy dark hair and faintly familiar brown eyes. Barely able to think clearly through my dazed state, it takes a moment for the face to register in my mind. Devon, I think to myself. I'm with Devon.
Panic flares through my chest. I have no idea what I'm doing or how I got here, nor do I remember last night. I went to a party, that I can recall. The rest of my memory is blank, a puzzle missing the centerpiece of its picture.
"What?" Devon exclaims in fear at the same time I question, "Devon?"
Devon gazes at me through narrowed eyes, as if she's thinking. I don't process anything before my lips start moving a mile a minute, spewing dozens of unanswered questions.
"Where am I?" I ask, frantic now. "How did I get here? Why am I with you? What happened last night? Why am I—"
Realization dawns on Devon's features. The gleam in her eyes stops my interrogation short, rendering me speechless.
"What?" I ask. I slide away from Devon on the bed, feeling confused and scared. My head has yet to stop pounding. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You don't remember last night, do you?" Devon deadpans. The light in her eyes has dimmed. Her tone is one of disappointment.
"No," I admit, the confusion I'm feeling echoing in my voice. "Not at all . . ."
"You were pretty plastered," Devon tells me. "I'm not surprised."
"So can you tell me what the fuck happened?" I ask. "Why am I here, Devon? What did I—"
"I brought you to my place," Devon admits sheepishly. "You were drunk and couldn't find your friends. You were too out of it to give me your address. I didn't know what else to do, so I let you crash here."
I process this information. My head is still throbbing, which makes it hard to think. However, I can feel Devon's eyes on me, studying me carefully.
"What do you remember about last night?" Devon quizzes cautiously.
I shrug. "I remember showing up to a party. That's about it."
"Do you want me to . . . tell you what happened?" Devon suggests.
