Chapter 9: I'm a better COD player, face it.

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Chapter 9

I woke up groggily, yawning and rubbing my eyes. I took in the familiar setting. My room spun around me as I sat up quickly. I put my cold hands to my head, groaning loudly- then regretting it a minute later. I heard clacking of computer keys. I turned my head to see Christy sitting with her glasses hanging off of her nose, her newly dyed blond hair swung back into a sloppy bun, but she pulled it off better than I ever could.

“Why does my head feel like this?” I asked, placing my head under my pillow.

“You have a hangover.” She laughed, tossing a loud bottle of pills on my bed beside me. I groaned as I placed the glass she’d handed me to my lips.

"Eat a banana, have some coffee.” She said, handing me the items. I gladly took them and began munching.

“Take a shower; we need to talk, too.” She said with a threatening tone to her voice. I trembled in my pajamas, knowing how strong she was since she pushed me into… Cyrus. I gritted my teeth at the faint memory. I no longer have the upper hand.

“How’s your head?” Christy asked, sitting on my neatly made bed. I glanced at my bed as she patted the spot beside her.

“Good, the headache subsided.” I said truthfully as I sat down.

“Why were you drunk?” She asked, crossing her arms. She acted like a mother, like I said before.

“I- um, you see, the thing is.” I began stuttering.

“The truth.” She said, narrowing her eyes.

“I was dancing with a guy, whose name isn’t important, and Cyrus saw and got angry, so angry that he broke glass. He broke glass! Who breaks glass? It’s just not normal or sanitary! But anyway, I helped him with his bloody hand; it was literally bloody, not the English version of, well, you know. But he made me promise that I’d stay beside him and he dragged me to a game where you admit stuff.” I said, taking a deep breath of air.

“And they asked Cyrus about a time when he did something with the girl on his left. I was on his right… and Cyrus… did the dirty deed with her.” I said, innocently. Christy watched me with a nervous expression before she broke into a full on grin. I looked at my best friend as if she was a nut.

“You’re starting to like Cyrus.” She said, pressing her lips together.

“What? No! I don’t. I barely know him! That’s impossible!” I countered, glaring at her.

“Seems pretty possible to me…” She trailed off, biting her nail.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at him?” I asked, crossing my arms with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, get back to the story.” She demanded, placing her hands on her knees as she listened intently.

“They asked me next about a time someone important to me hurt me. And I did the stupid thing of skipping and took 2 shots of some random drink they poured me. Then, it was my turn again and they asked about a bad ex, and I told them about Dean.” I said, gripping my jeans between my two fingers. She looked at me as if to say ‘more.’ So I continued telling her the story.

“But… I ended up with a hurt feeling in the pit of my stomach and the feeling of wanting to cry, so I excused myself so I could go to the bathroom where I locked the door. Cyrus followed me, I guess, and kept asking me to open the bathroom door. But I wouldn’t. Then I texted you the address that I had to pry out of him and you came but he wouldn’t let me leave alone, because he said someone would’ve taken advantage of my drunken state.” I said, biting my lip.

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