Sweetheart

4

Lizzie
August 2020

I roll and roll, groaning at the loud sound of something hissing and brushing against my skin. Bedsheets.

I creak my eyes open against the annoying first lights of the day. I gaze around. A window, a nightstand, a desk. Holy shit. Whose room is this? Did I sleep with someone last night? What happened last night? Holy shit! I jolt up, sitting clumsily and almost falling over the bed.

Quickly, the realization sinks in. This is my new room. I'm at home. No strangers are in my bed. I'm clothed. Wait.
I glance down again. All right, I don't remember much from last night, but I sure as hell was not wearing this t-shirt. Only this t-shirt.

I cover my exhausted face with my hands, sighing. Jesus Christ, what the hell happened last night?
I was dancing, I was drunk, I smoked, and then... And then what?

Shaking my head, I get out of bed, feeling dizzy and almost losing my balance. Oh, woah. Slowly, I take a few steps on the cold floor, making my way towards the bathroom. After relieving myself, I wash my face and brush my teeth.

I raise my eyes and almost get a heart attack when I make eye contact with my reflection. Why is my hair wet? I gasp. "Oh, fuck," I curse, remembering. I fell into the pool. That's what happened. I slap my hand on my forehead with a smack! That would explain the t-shirt. Someone must've changed me after getting me home soaked. I'll thank Nate for that as soon as I see him.

Wait. No. Oh, no. Please tell me he did not see me naked. Or in my underwear, whatever. I let out a frustrated yelp, sitting on the toilet. Why am I like this?

A knock on my bedroom door sounds. Sighing, I get up and exit the bathroom. I slip on some shorts and open the door. A smile tugs at my lips. "Hey, Nate."

Nate stands there, a glass and aspirin in his hands. "Good morning. How are you feeling, Liz?" he asks, entering my room as I move to the side.

I scratch my nape, embarrassed. "I'm all right. I don't usually get too hungover after a night out, thankfully." I thank him when he hands me the water and I chug down the aspirin. "Oh, and thanks about this too," I add, pointing at the shirt I have on.

Nate frowns. "That's not mine. Someone must've given it to you after you fell right into the pool," he tells me, chuckling at the memory of that.

Oh. Damn, this is even more pathetic. "Maybe Caleb gave it to me. It was his house after all," I say more to myself than Nate.

He tilts his head, leaning against the desk. "You met Caleb?"

I nod, sitting down on the chair. "Yeah. Before getting way too drunk to remember the rest. I'm so sorry you had to see that side of me so early. I swear I'm not always like that," I apologize honestly, feeling my cheeks burn.

He however only laughs, amused. "Are you kidding me? You were awesome. I hoped you'd be like that and not some kind of rigid old-school little bitch. Thank God you're fun."

That's... Kind. Wow. I'm not used to compliments. "Thank you. I'm glad you're not a judging rich-ass douchebag," I say back, making him chuckle. "You already had breakfast?" I ask, getting up from the chair and brushing my arm against his. Oh, he's warm. And he doesn't move away from me as though I had leprosy.

"Not yet. I was, um, waiting for you," he admits. "Come on. Mom says my pancakes are fantastic."

Starting to leave the room, I raise my brows. "Really?" I ask, surprised.

"No. But you're gonna pretend they are."

Laughing, I bring my hand to my forehead like a soldier. "Yes, sir."