august girls

chapter 8

Brandy

In the beach house, the bright shining sun is usually the first thing I notice when I wake up. Today that is definitely not the first thing I notice.

My brain feels like it's being crushed with the weight of my headache and the idea of opening my eyes to the sunlight is painful. But that's not the only different thing about waking up this morning. I feel an unfamiliar weight across my stomach and against my shoulder.

For the sake of my curiosity, I turn my head just a little and open my eyes to a squint.

I find two things. The weight across my stomach is an arm with fingers curling under my back holding me tight. And the weight on my shoulder? It's a head. A head with blonde hair.

My eyes widen and my mind spins with confusion. Did we... No. I would definitely remember that.

What I do remember are most of the things I said. To her.

I told her I'm in awe with her and that she's the prettiest girl I know.

I'm a fucking idiot. I'm surprised she didn't run away as soon as she got me into this bed.

On my bedside table, I notice a glass of water. I remember Azalea grabbing that for me. Right before I pulled her onto my bed next to me.

She was kind and thoughtful enough to get me a glass of water for the morning and I responded by forcing her to sleep next to me. God.

As slowly and carefully as possible, I reach over for the glass of water. I pick it up and start to sit up to drink it.

Once I'm sitting up, I feel Azalea stir. Her arm that is now wrapped around my waist tightens and squeezes me tighter. The butterflies in my stomach feel like they are trying to rip through my organs.

I look down at her face to see her eyes open slightly. The light of the sun is shining through the window onto her face and her golden hair. I've never seen her so still and I have to admit that it makes me a certain level of giddy to see her on my bed.

When she sees me looking down at her, her lips curve up in a tentative smile. Her looking nervous is making me nervous again.

The only thing I can do is start rambling. "Azalea, I'm so sorry about everything last night. Like, I'm sure you wanted to stay at the party last night and didn't want to babysit me. Also, if I made you uncomfortable with the things I said and the fact that I dragged you into my bed last night I'm sorry about that too. My mouth just tends to run on and on when I'm drunk and I'm kinda doing that now-"

Her hand comes away from around my waist to cover my mouth. I immediately miss the feeling of her arm around me, but can't decide if this is better.

"You don't need to apologize for anything," is all she says.

I stare at her stupidly, completely speechless as she pulls her hand away and climbs out of the bed.

"I'll see you downstairs," she says, as if the last minute has been a normal, expected interaction from us.

-

Carmen sends me a text instructing me to put on a bathing suit before I come down for breakfast. I dig through my overflowing suitcase I never fully unpacked until I find a simple black bikini that makes me feel comfortable to wear. I throw baggy jean shorts over the bikini bottoms and splash cold water on my face to wake myself up before going downstairs.

Azalea is sitting at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal while Patrick and Carmen move around the cozy kitchen like a married couple trying to make breakfast for an army of children.