The Devils Of Harvard

Chapter Fourteen

Scarlett Louviere

I woke up one morning in Stratford and looked around realizing quickly that this wasn't my house. The air smelt like booze and throw up. Looking around I was surrounded by light that only made my skull feel more like it was in a vice being crushed.

Looking around I realized I was in a wooden paneled home with light streaming in from white framed six-pane windows with the curtains pulled to the sides in C shaped artistic holders. I lay half naked in a messy bed with the sheets crumpled near my feet.

I made a big mistake.

Glancing over at the bed I was thankful no one was there and I didn't feel a wetness anywhere or pain in my pelvic area.

At least I didn't have sex.

Door was locked.

Double checking the blurry memory of locking the door I found that it was indeed locked before walking into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Staring at myself in the mirror I realized how terrible I looked, large dark bags hung under my eyes, and my messy hair was knotted in places.

I didn't even really remember most of the night. I could remember getting to the party in the back seat of Courtney's Rover, I remembered dancing but then something happened and from that it was just flashes of drinking, until right now.

I had clearly thrown up as in whatever drunken state I didn't flush the toilet which I did quickly along with lit a candle before going to the bathroom since hangover had fully kicked in and I had to go badly.

"Never again fuck sake".

Noticing my phone carelessly placed on the marble counter around the sink I reached for it knowing that I didn't typically put it face down and opened it to look at a series of about seven messages.

Hey handsome, haven't talked in a while
Read 9:15

Anyways how are you doing I'm at a party having fun without you
Read 9:23

I look really hot
Read 9:36

Hello
Read 9:55

HELLO!
Read 10:20

So mean, meanie
Read 10:32

I hate you because I miss you
Read 10:47

Who the hell did I send those too?

Swiftly looking up to the top of the screen in a panic, my eyes met with the name placed centrally there taunting me: Nathan

Well shit.

He had seen all of them and didn't answer which told me a lot though there was a voice message from him from an hour ago. Cautiously I opened my voicemail and raised my phone to my ear to hear the message.

"Scarlett I can tell you're not yourself so I am going to pretend that I didn't read those messages, I deleted them already, and you should too. Move on like you wanted. Without me so that this year is easy, it might even be good if you blocked me, I can neglect the urge to message or call you, I've been good to do that. Just do what will help you without you getting drunk at parties and messaging people. Bye".

His voice was just how I remembered it the teasing notes of wit were gone. There was a sadness and a pain there in his words, like he cared, and was limiting himself. It showed the maturity he had, that same underlying piece of himself he showed mixed with the part he hid. He didn't like being sensitive and I knew it. He used being reclusive as a defense a way to let no one in and I wouldn't force that on anyone.