company. | jori

Three: A Hangover Cure

Tori

I wake up slowly, my left eye opens and then my right. I adjust to the light coming in through my windows only to close my eyes again and turn over in hopes of falling back asleep. My head's pounding along with the heartbeat that I can feel in my ears. I'm trying to sleep; trying to milk as much rest as I can out of the morning, but it's useless. I groan and turn to look at my ceiling.

"This sucks," I say to nobody in reference to the awful hangover I am currently experiencing. I sit up and reach for my glasses on my nightstand; putting them on and getting out of bed.

"Oh, this really sucks." I feel nauseous so I rush to my bathroom before I puke anywhere but the toilet. Although everything hurts and my guts are basically evacuating my mouth, I don't regret anything. I can't remember much from last night, and I'm scared that what I can't remember is bound to be embarrassing, but I can remember Jade being nice to me all night.

Which would have been a dream come true for Tori Vega from two years past.

For a long time I cared a lot about what Jade thought of me, especially when I first joined Hollywood Arts back in sophomore year. I put in so much effort to get her to like me, I took hit after hit because I was desperate for some kind of relationship with her.

Over time she slowly wore me down. She got meaner and it started to have an actual effect on me. It was hell to wake up every single day and go to school just to be tormented by somebody I just wanted to like me. So I learned to get tougher and started feeding her the medicine she readily gave out to everybody else. Whether that drew a bigger gap between us, who knows? But none of that seemed to matter last night.

Last night was as if she actually liked me.

I flush the toilet and sit back to lean against the wall. My throat was burning now and I desperately needed water, so after I took a minute to just sit there and collect myself, I stand up and make my way downstairs slowly.

Holding onto the railing as I approach my living room, my feet drag across the steps. I'm pinching the top of my nose bridge and I'm trying my best not to fall over.

When I do finally get to the living room and make my way over to the kitchen I'm greeted by a glass of water already set out on the countertop, accompanied by three painkillers and a handwritten note. My fingers trace over the paper before picking it up gently.

TORI,

take the advil
i am not responsible for your
hangover if you decide not to listen to me
also drink all the water in the cup and then
fill it up again and drink that too

you're a pain to take care of btw

- JADE

I feel myself smile uncontrollably. Even if the end of the letter was less than sweet, the fact that she wrote one at all was undeniably one of the best things ever. It's so not Jade West. And as much as I like Jade West; Jade West does not like me. But whoever this girl is, she seems to like me. Jade West would never write me a letter.

I focus on the dash she used to sign off her name noticing the indent of an erased mark. I press the paper flatter onto the counter and stare at it; my heart elating when it clicks into place.