Blackmailing The Untouched

The Morning After...

I wake the next morning to a throbbing headache and a violent churning in my stomach.

Sitting up, I slowly allow my eyes to adjust before sliding out of bed and running to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time before my stomach lurches forward to expel all the alcohol from my system. Afterwards, it feels like my head could split open.

I regret taking that first drink and the five that followed.

Once the heaving subsides, I wait around the toilet for a few more moments, and my eyes, heavy from becoming sick, slowly fall closed.

“Hey!” I’m shaken awake by a nervous and concerned Sally, her hands on my shoulders, violently throttling me. “Hollie, you okay?”

I come to on the soft carpet, the fibers blurry at first, so after my eyes adjust and I'm brought back to reality, I pull myself up, looking at Sally while squinting, “What?”

Lowering onto her knees beside me, she checks my forehead for a fever, “Your first time hugging the toilet?” she smiles, “I’ve been there before.”

I lean back against the toilet; the cold porcelain comforting on my overly hot skin. “I think I’m going to stay away from partying for a while. Maybe forever.”

“Yeah, I hear ya there.” She nods, leaning back to rest her head on my shoulder. “What happened last night? You disappeared for a while.”

Images and feelings from the previous night come flooding back. The dark. Zach’s harsh breathing. The fluttering of my heart. His greedy lips on mine. Our hands laced together. His body moving on top of mine. His teeth on my neck. The heat of his chest. The memories hit me like a roller-coaster, my stomach dipping and flipping, my skin tingling when I think about how it felt to be beneath him.

“I didn’t disappear; you were just too busy with Zander to notice me.” I lie (sort of), nudging her playfully. “Seriously, Sal, is this a relationship?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I think I want it to be, but I just can’t read him. I just think that he wants to hook up, and if that’s the case, I’m not feeling it. I want someone who wants what I want, and after multiple dates, I would expect to at least have talked to see what we are and where we’re going.” She explains. And just like that she forgets all about my disappearance from last night as she rambles on.

“That’s all that I want right now.” I tell her with a sigh, “I don’t want anyone to stop me from doing anything I want to do, but I think it’d be nice to have that physical contact, but only when I want it.”

“It starts good, but someone always gets attached. Someone always ends up wanting more.” Her eyes narrow at me, “Friends with benefits is such a shit situation.”

“I am way too hungover to be talking about this.” I groan, a hand on my head when another drum beats in my temple.

“Yeah, well remember this feeling the next time you want to down liquor like it’s going out of style.” She pats my knee and then uses it as leverage to stand up.

“That’s not going to be an issue. Trust that.” I promise.

And then she leaves the bathroom with a laugh. Minutes later, I hear her on the phone.

Feeling a lot better now that I’ve emptied the alcohol from my body, I make my way out of the bathroom and into the living room, cringing at the disaster we call a Kitchen. Liquor bottles are all opened and still displayed on top of the counter, Solo cups litter the floors and fill the sink, and the smell of stale chips is in the air.

“Exactly as I said!” Sally storms into the kitchen as I'm getting life from an ice-cold glass of water, hopping up onto the island. Her eyebrows knit together, and her lips purse. “That was Zander.”