Player In Love? ✏️

Chapter 18

As I wake up, I lay in bed trying to soothe my raging headache. The events from last night race through my thoughts. You aren't just another one of those girls. Those 8 words ring through my head on a loop. I press my pointer fingers against my temples to try and calm my headache. My eyes are a bit puffy from crying so much. The light seeps in through the open window curtains, and I use an extra pillow to cover my face. Sounds are coming from the kitchen, and my heart stops for a minute. I take a deep breath, and with a huff, I slowly sit up, tossing the pillow on the bed. My head pounds with the sudden movement, and I rest my elbows on my thighs with my head in my hands. Excedrin. I need either Excedrin or Tylenol. Footsteps approach my door, then I hear them turn away. I hear Kellin moving around in the living room, so I need to wait him out before I get medicine.

I don't want to talk to him right now, especially not when it feels like my head is going to split open. A couple of minutes pass, and I finally hear the door close. He must've left for class or something. I slowly get up and drag my feet to the door. My limbs feel heavy, and the sunlight isn't helping my head at all. I open the door and walk towards the kitchen. The lights above the kitchen island are still on, so I just head straight for the fridge and grab a cold water bottle. Opening the cap, I open the medicine cabinet next to the fridge. I'm shuffling through the different bottles when I hear a door behind me open. I freeze for a second, then continue looking for a headache medicine. I see the bottle near the back of the shelf, and I get on my toes to try to reach it. My fingertips graze the bottle, and I manage to knock it down and wrap my fingers around it.

I dump two tablets into the palm of my hand and wash them down with a sip of water. I keep my back turned to the open door, and then I realize there's no way out but to turn around. I take another sip of the cool water and turn around. I don't look at Kellin and walk around the kitchen island. "Katherine." Kellin mumbled. His voice is low, and it stops me in my tracks. My grip tightens around my water bottle.

"What?" I grumble, headache still prominent. My back is still facing him. I don't want to hear whatever he has to say, especially not with this damn headache. His footsteps get closer but then stop.

"Turn around." He states. I just stand with my eyes shut tight, trying to massage the headache away. Without turning, I continue walking toward my room. I only get a few steps closer when Kellin says, "Katherine, please."

I let out a frustrated sigh as I comply with his demand. Now, Kellin and I are staring at each other. "What do you want?" I groan. I really don't want to talk to him right now; I don't want to be in this apartment. My eyes feel heavy, and even though the headache has dissipated slightly, it's still there.

"Can we talk about last night?" He asks, leaning against the counter. His hair is disheveled, and his almost clear skin has a hint of dark circles under his eyes.

"Look, Kellin, I have a major headache right now, and I'm tired." I rub my hand over my eyes. "There really isn't anything to talk about." Now we are staring at each other. All I can think about is lying in bed, buried under the covers.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and steps closer to me. His face is expressionless, but his eyes seem to tell a different story. "Can we just talk about it?" I don't know what he's getting at; there's nothing to discuss.

I look back and forth from Kellin to the room I've been crashing in with the very comfy bed. "Kellin, I want to try and make this headache go down. If you want to talk, we can talk about this later." He doesn't say anything; he just continues staring. I figure the conversation is over, so I turn my back on him and walk into the room. Shutting the door, I walk over to the bed and curl up under the covers, trying to get rid of my throbbing headache. I close my eyes, letting the covers' warmth fill me, hoping the headache goes away soon.