Chapter 6

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Hayley pov

          I wake up confused, and out of it, I struggle to come back to reality because I now feel like a zombie. I look over to my nightstand, which has a glass of water, two tablets of Tylenol, and a note that says, "take this now, dumbass," with the initials GG. I groan and take the two Tylenol. "Good morning, roomie!" Emily comes in the door with bagels and coffee. The smell of the food makes me want to vomit because I'm so fucking hungover, but I see Emily as her usual self. "How are you not hungover?"

"because, unlike you, I know how to handle my alcohol but fear not, bestie, I will help you with your drink count." "So, can I ask what happened last night?" she hands me her phone, and I scroll through photos of me drunk and stumble across a video of me dancing on a table and starting to strip. "Oh my god," before I strip, Grayson picks me up by my legs and carries me away, followed by Austin and Emily behind. Day four at Briar, and I'm already a viral sensation. After that, I decided to shower and get all the party stuff off me. Today I'm not going anywhere after what happened. I'm going to stay home and watch Friends (the best show of all time) and maybe play some guitar.

Nothing can go wrong in my little cocoon of a dorm. As I get comfortable and laugh at Chandler's lines, Emily joins me and hands me gummy bears. "My favorite, thanks, Em," she smiles, " Your brother said you like these" I instantly get suspicious "wait, what?" "Nothing, forget I said that" I stand in front of her blocking the tv. "Emily Di  Laurentis, answer me now!" she sighs "ok, ok, your brother asked me to keep you out of trouble." I groan, "of course he did" he doesn't trust me, and he is still being the overprotective brother. Does he think I'm so pathetic that I need someone to babysit me? I pick up my jacket and head to his dorm "where are you going?" Emily tries to stop me, "I'm going to give my twin a piece of my mind" so much for watching Friends and relaxing. 

Braylen pov 

I walk into the arena and get on the ice to practice my slap shots because I can't stop thinking about Hayley. It's so goddamn annoying I need to focus on hockey; I don't have time to think about an annoying spoiled brat. One by one, I set out eight pucks in a row and slapshot them into the net. I imagine the crowd yelling and screaming my name as I make a goal and make my college proud. I wish my dad were still here watching me shine on the ice, but he took off nothing I could do about it; I was only twelve. 


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