Angsty - Enemies to Lovers - Slow Burn
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Hitch Pepper might've had a stupid name, and a personality that drove me crazy, but that didn't stop her from being gorgeous. Everyone knew it, guys and girls alike.
And my buddy Phil Childre...
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ROME AND I were the ones that helped a very drunken Phil into his room after puking his guts out on our back lawn.
It was at a party Phil had convinced me to throw at our house for one last hurrah before classes started up for our senior year of college, and he would be spending the last half of it sprawled out on his bathroom floor sick as a dog.
"Do we get him out of his clothes?" I asked Rome when he returned with a glass of water, looking down at Phil. "He's sweating through his shirt, man."
"I'm fine . . ." Phil groaned.
"Well, here's some water, Phil," Rome said as he knelt down next to Phil.
Phil peeled his face off of the blue and white tiles, taking the water from him and taking a long sip, water dribbling down his chin. He set it down when he was done, his head flopping back onto the tiles.
"Ughhhhhhh," he groaned some more, "I'm never drinking tequila again."
"Damn right you're not," I agreed, "you puked all over the patio, man. It reeks out there and now all the potheads are coming inside to smoke. My house is gonna smell like weed from now on."
I had been against the idea of the party being at our house ever since he had pitched it a few weeks ago, but, somehow, he had talked me into it. With Hitch's help, of course. And right then I was wishing that they hadn't, because having a bunch of people in my house drove me insane.
I had spent most of the party stone-cold sober, running around and cleaning up messes or yelling at people.
"Sorry, Julian," Phil said, trying to sit up. He leaned up against his bathtub as he eyed me. "I'm so sorry."
I sighed, feeling like crap. "No, man, don't apologize," I said. "You're fine. Are you at least feeling better after getting all that out of you?"
"A little," he said.
"Do you want me to get Hitch for you?"
He shook his head, laying it back on the lip of his tub. "No, don't. I don't wanna ruin her high. And I'm feeling better anyways. I'm just reallyyyy tired."
He didn't look any better, but no one commented on the fact.
"Uh, well, you wanna get in bed or something?" I suggested. "Try and sleep it off?"
"Nahhhhh, just grab me a blanket and I'll just sleep on the floor."
"You sure?" I asked.
His eyes were closed, like he was about to doze off at any given moment. "Yeah. I'm real comfy right here."
Rome and I looked at each other, suppressing our laughs because Phil looked anything but "real comfy"—legs sprawled out and neck bent at an awkward angle as he rested his head on the tub.
