The delicious scent of cooking bacon fills my senses and I open my eyes slowly. The once darkened room is filled with light and I blink a few times to adjust my eyes. That's when the headache hits me.
As if someone is inside my skull, squeezing my brain like a stress ball, I feel an intense pressure in my head. My vision fades to whiteness and I feel disoriented for a few moments, before my eyes refocus and my headache reduces to a dull ache, pulsing in and out.
I let my head fall into my hands and let out a loud groan, promising to never drink again.
"Rough night?" I hear a famliar voice ask from across the room.
I look up to see Tasmin standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and a knowing smirk painted on her full lips. She's wearing a white tank top and a pair of bright blue pyjama shorts. I look down at my own outfit - an old t-shirt that barely reaches my thighs - and sigh loudly before answering.
"You don't want to know," I reply, rolling my eyes slightly. I rub underneath my eyes, collecting a large amount of crumbled eye makeup, and sigh once more before standing from the couch.
I'm suddenly overcome with dizziness. My vision fades out once again and I feel as though I might fall over. I hear Tasmin rush over to me and place her hands on my shoulders for support.
"Are you okay?" I hear her ask in a panicked tone as I feel my vision fade back to normal.
"I'm fine," I answer quickly, taking a moment to focus again.
"How much did you have to drink last night, Skye?" she asks me with worried eyes.
Last night.
The memories flood back as a wave of nausea and I full myself from Tasmin's grip on my shoulders, running out through the hallway and into the bathroom. I immediately drop to my knees in front of the toilet bowl and throw up a whole night's worth of drinks, and nothing else.
"Skye?" Tasmin knocks gently at the door behind me.
The horror of the realisation of what I've just done hits me like a truck and leaves me with a throbbing headache.
"I'm so sorry!" I call out to Tasmin and flush the toilet as she pushes the door open and walks though to stand beside me.
I watch her eyes dart from the flushing toilet to me lying on the floor in a crumpled mess and they light up slightly with humour.
"Skye, that's okay, I swear," she reaches for my arm and helps to pull me to my feet.
Mortified, I keep my mouth shut for fear of her smelling my vomit breath, and nod quickly instead.
"Trust me, I've been there," she giggles slightly and rubs my back.
I feel a wave of relief at her relaxed and humorous reaction to the situation, and let out a quiet laugh.
"I've got a spare toothbrush you can use. Come on," she smiles humorously at me, gesturing for me to come with her, and I follow her into the hallway and out of the guest house.
The smell of bacon is stronger now, and it hits me once again when we enter the main hallway. I feel a lot better with all the alcohol out of my system. Hungry even, perhaps. I hear loud voices coming from the kitchen, one definitely belonging to Jayden, along with the sizzling and crackling sounds of cooking bacon and panic hits me. Do his parents even know I'm here?
I follow Tasmin down the hallway and into a large bathroom which is brightly lit and warmed by the morning sun. She immediately closes the door behind me and I take a seat on the edge of the large bathtub while she rummages through one of the white drawers. After a few moments, a green toothbrush is placed in my hand and I stand up to brush my teeth.
YOU ARE READING
Lovestruck (EDITING)
Teen FictionSenior year of high school. Your average introverted teenage girl. The cool, rebellious guy who takes an interest in her. Sounds like a cliché? There's also a major love triangle. That's been done too? Damn it. Okay... So at first glance, this may...