Chapter 43: Mae Kazimi

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Chapter 43: Mae Kazimi

I think I see stars blinking down at me as my sight goes blurry and I reach out to touch the ceiling as if to touch them. I feel their soft glow on my skin as their silver light reflects into my eyes and they look at me with big fat smiles and...

Wait.

Since when do stars smile?

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" Alek asks, his face appearing on top of mine, a few inches away. He is upside down in my view and I have to blink thrice to make sure I'm seeing right. "Where'd your pillow go?"

"I...." I frown, trying to scour my mind as to where I could have possibly put my pillow when a memory begins to slowly piece together inside my mind and my eyes widen.

"What?"

I think I feel my eyeballs becoming wet and my cheeks slimy with something...tears? "In the shower," I sniffle. "It's showering."

Alek looks so awfully confused and I want to tell him I'm as confused as he is but I can't create any coherent sentences without embarrassing myself.

"Why is your fucking pillow in the shower Mae?" he asks, settling down beside me, his face no longer upside down. "And why are you crying on the floor wearing three of my shirts on top of each other and no pants?"

I gasp, sitting up, looking down at what I'm wearing as my cheeks begin to redden, "I'm wearing shorts, you weirdo. Get off of my bed."

"You're sitting on the floor," he says flatly.

I glare at him and wipe my face, "Okay, and? You sleep there, I sleep here."

"Since when?"

"Since now."

He raises his eyebrows in amusement, "Why don't you want to sleep with me?"

I just know he purposely worded that stupid sentence like that.

"Excuse me?" I splutter. "I am flabbergasted! Absolutely flabbergasted!"

"What?"

"Just-just go away! Let me sleep!"

"In my three shirts and no pants?"

"In my three shirts and shorts!"

We glare at each other for five more seconds before Alek bursts out laughing, "You're so fucking drunk, my God."

"Don't act like a little saint," I shake my finger at him. "Remember that one time you were drunk and then you-"

Before I can continue, I am picked from the floor like a sack of potatoes and tossed onto the bed, my body jumping in the air from the impact.

"You IMBECILE!"

"Call me that one more time and next time I'll toss you onto the floor," he threatens and I can hear a cheeky smile in it as he closes the lights and lays down beside me.

We lay there, me near the wall and him on my left, both of us staring at the ceiling. All the alcohol that I'd drowned myself into during the little party earlier during dinner has started to hit me hard, and I can hardly keep my eyes open as sleep forces them shut.

"How should I tell my father that Lorenzo is dead?"

The question comes so unexpectedly that I am taken aback.

"I'm not answering you right now because I'm thinking," I tell him.

This earns me a snort. If you haven't noticed, honesty is my specialty when I'm drunk. Like, blackout drunk.

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