Above Water ✔️

10 - sleeping with the fishes

I would never drink again.

My eyes hurt before I even opened them, light beating down on me with the power of a thousand suns. I pulled my blanket over my head and clenched my eyes shut, which only made my head start to pound.

I knew that all I needed to do was get up, pop some painkillers, take a cold shower, and eat. It always worked like a charm. I learned it from my mom ages ago; she called it the End-All Be-All Hangover Cure. It hadn't ever failed me, so I was pretty certain she was right.

But the sunlight hurt. I couldn't move. Maybe if I just went back to sleep–

"Got you breakfast."

I froze, the penetrating sound of someone's voice startling me and I groaned weakly. It was obviously Dallas. The sound of ceramic touching the wooden nightstand rang right next to my head.

"Mmfh," was all I mustered.

"Everyone's asking about you. It's almost two in the afternoon," he said, a teasing inflection to his voice. "I gotta show you this video I got of you last night."

That made me sit up. "You took a video of me?"

He looked immaculate, like he hadn't gone out last night. I had figured out a few days ago that he went on morning jogs up and down the boulevard. It was why I'd never see him when I woke up. I wondered if maybe he had rest days after he drank or went to bed late.

Dallas surprised me by sitting next to me in the bed atop the blanket, his phone in his hand. I moved over a little bit to make space between us, but he only scooted closer. I squinted at his phone screen, the LCD screen a bit blinding at the moment.

My jaw dropped when I saw myself splayed on the ground outside the beach house, deadweight as Dallas tugged on my hand for dear life to try to pick me up. I had my eyes closed and I was whining unintelligible words while Dallas laughed behind his camera. The video ended and he clicked to the next one where I was trying to reach a bag of chips from across the island so my entire body was splayed across the counter. I cringed at the sight, pushing his phone away from me. Dallas only laughed and pocketed the phone.

"Eat," he said, not moving from beside me but placing the plate on my lap. "You'll feel better."

I stared at the eggs on toast and sliced strawberries, squinting at him curiously. "You're being awfully accommodating," I said accusingly.

"I've had to take care of Phoebe a thousand times when she was hungover," he rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the strawberries and tossing it in his mouth. I watched his lips as he chewed, a bit distracted by the movements. "Best thing that made her attitude go away was food, so eat. And maybe I'll tell you what else you did last night."

My stomach dropped. Please, God, if you're listening, please tell me I didn't do something gay.

"I don't want to know," I muttered, starting with a strawberry of my own.

Dallas moved to his own bed and sat on his phone quietly while I tried my best to keep the food down. I felt like I'd throw up soon after but bringing me breakfast was so thoughtful, I was obligated to eat it.

After eating my breakfast and taking a refreshingly cold shower, I sat down on my bed in clean clothes and pulled out my journal. I wasn't planning on doing anything while my headache subsided besides writing about last nights endeavors and maybe starting the next season of Chainsaw Man with the lights off.

"You tried to get in the shower with your clothes on last night," Dallas chuckled, making me look up from my notebook. He was on his laptop reading something when I came back in the room. "I almost let you, but then you almost cracked your head open on the tile so I figured bed was the safest option."