April 27th

Chapter 4

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Four

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Javier could barely see a thing when he woke up. One drink had turned to two, then three, all because he had kept on losing to Nathan and the black haired girl-what was her name? Sophia? Galina?

Paige had been of absolutely no help as a partner, either. He was sure she, too, would be feeling this hangover. He lay sprawled out, too tired to move, spewed up like a broken hermit on a Sunday morning. His mouth tasted of bile, as if he'd thrown up severely sometime before.

How bad had he been?

Pretty bad, he guessed, judging from how much his head felt like it had been stomped on by an angry, fat, 35 year old man baby in a sumo suit.

He shut his eyes again, running his hand through his hair, before collapsing onto the feathery soft cushion of his pillow. He stared at the ceiling through barely open eyes, struggling to clear them of their heavy film.

He needed fresh air.

It took him a solid five minutes to get off the bed and make it to the window. Back at his old bedroom, he had an organised nightstand, with a drawer specially for things like this, though back then, he'd only woken up with hangovers after partying with April.

Not ordinary parties, either.

Back then, she would pull strings as much as she could, then show up at school with passes or wristbands for the biggest night parties in town.

It was through parties that he'd seen her headline street dance. It may have been all the alcohol in him, or worse, the love he'd had in his eyes for her, but he knew she had a gift.

Not everyone could bend their bodies in ways April could. One would also think she did ballet, but the energy she carried wouldn't ever allow her submit to something as conditioned as ballet.

She was a storm, unlike him. He only did things with calculated reasons. He liked gentle music, to strum his acoustic guitar and listen to plain, undiluted sounds. She'd claimed she loved his songs back then, but now that he thought about it, it had probably been a lie to keep him around as long as she wanted him. It was perhaps the reason she'd thrown him out of her life the way she did. She'd kept him until she got tired, because April did things with only one person in mind.

Herself.

He finally got enough energy to walk downstairs and out of the house, thankful not to have run into either of his parents. His mother would probably still be asleep, but he could never tell with his father.

The air, unlike the previous night, was calm, and brought with it a refreshing vibe, exactly what he needed. The weather had always had its effect on him, after all, the best things happened in the best weather. April had always said that.

He rubbed at the back of his head. Did everything have to relate to her?

His head still ached, but the walk so far had helped a bit in clearing it. He looked a bit south, toward the ocean and saw two people at the bank— girls to be exact. It looked like the first was trying to get the other, taller girl to jump into the water. The first pointed, then gestured to her friend, who just appeared to be heartily laughing and shaking her head.

He smiled, noting the fact that other guys his age would probably be thinking of making moves by now. Although everyone, even Jules—who'd had her fair share of failed relationships—was trying to get him to take his head out of his ass and date someone, he just was never for the idea.