Choices (Book Four)

Chapter 5

Lyla

So much for believing I was an unstoppable college senior who would party it up this year because I just spent my entire Saturday nursing a hangover in my bedroom. The only reasons I got out of said bed today was to go to the washroom and to retrieve a plethora of Gatorade bottles to go along with the pizza I ordered with Megan in the afternoon. Speaking of Megan, that girl has some miracle hangover system because she knocked on my door around ten o'clock freshly showered and ready to head out to another party. Thankfully for me, she didn't argue with me tonight when I turned down the offer to join her.

Between the headache that has finally subsided in the last few hours and the sheer embarrassment I feel after reading over the email I sent Shawn last night, I needed to just be a hermit today and sit in pure horror with myself for not only constructing such a drunk ass email but also sending it. When I first woke up this afternoon I thought it was some cruel dream I had had until I checked my outbox and saw it there in black and white. If my stomach wasn't feeling sick before it certainly was after reading over my drunk misspelled exaggeration of my week and night out. I didn't think I had been that drunk last night, but apparently I had been and thought this email was a great idea. I actually cringed when I read over the part where I bragged about the Frat party and how I was dancing the night away with everyone.

I groan loudly as I push myself up to sit on my bed and reach for my laptop. It's already three in the morning and I am now wide awake from spending the day sleeping for the most part. Great, first week of school and I've already fucked up my sleep schedule. I open up instagram and start scrolling through for the first time today. I like a few posts from friends and one that Megan posted from last night of us at the diner together. Before long I'm on Shawn's profile and to no surprise there is nothing new. Next I head over to the team website for the Grand Rapids Griffins. Ive already shamelessly been on it enough time that it auto populates rather quickly in my search bar.

Social media truly is a dangerous rabbit hole to mess with. Before long I'm searching every teammate on his roster on instagram and checking their profiles, most of which are thankfully public. I find a few that have stories and like some sort of detective I play them through more than once to see if I can catch a peek of Shawn somewhere. Low and behold on the seventh or eighth profile I have found, I watch a story of some bar packed full of people as the camera pans around a large table and that's when I see him. The video is a bit dark, but I couldn't miss that face. He's sitting at the booth, sandwiched between a blonde and brunette. I feel my stomach drop. I replay the video again and watch as Shawn laughs at something one of the girls says and I feel a small bubble of jealousy start to form within me.

I shouldn't be getting upset like this. He has every right to be out having fun with his teammates and whoever else he wants. I should be happy that he is enjoying himself and a part of me is, yet I still can't shake the feeling that I wish I was there with him. I play the video one more time, promising myself before I hit play that this will be the last bit of torture I put myself through, but then I notice that there are people tagged in the post. I can't resist to click on the next profile and it takes me to a page filled with model worthy posed photos. It's the blonde from the video, whose name is apparently Hannah, and she is drop dead gorgeous.

I stop myself from scrolling through too many of her photos and head straight to her story. It starts with her and another girl I recognize at the brunette from the bar getting ready somewhere and toasting glasses together. The next video is a repost from someone else, but I recognize the bar as the same one. The video pans from the brunette to Shawn beside her before Hannah leans in front of him and into view. I can only imagine she has her hand on his thigh as she does this and I want to reach through the screen and rip her arm off. Shawn gives a quick wave to the camera and both girls fall into a fit of giggles before calling him adorable. Of course he is adorable. He's the freaking embodiment of the every adjective a girl would use to describe her perfect guy. So of course he is getting hit on. And he is single, I remind myself.