ARABELLA • Alex Turner

FOUR

~

     The overwhelming feeling of nausea that greeted Arabella the moment she cracked her eyes open made her seriously wish that she'd chosen to remain a heartbroken, abstinent recluse.

Hangovers were no fun for anyone, but they were certainly no fun for those who had important papers to write and university classes to attend.

Arabella cursed herself. Why had she gone out with Sophie again?

   Although currently feeling as if she had been beaten to within an inch of her life, she had to admit that the night before had been fun. She had thoroughly enjoyed her conversation with Alex and honestly hoped for a chance to see him again. As for Miles, there wasn't a bad word to say.

Still half-asleep, she could hear her flatmate mangling a Whitney Houston song in the shower next door, truly sounding like a strangled cat. The racket caused her to wince.

   Despite being firm friends, she and Sabrina were like chalk and cheese. The blonde was assertive and loud, while Arabella was on the meeker side. How they had become so close was a mystery, but they loved one another and their differences only made living together more interesting.

Retreating back beneath a mountain of pillows and blankets, Arabella allowed herself a few more minutes to mentally prepare for the day. After all, there was nothing more excruciating than a tequila-induced headache (except maybe having to endure one in a bright classroom while staring at a bright computer screen).

Finally plucking up the courage to move, she swung her bare feet to the carpet. Once upright, the room swayed and she almost spilled her guts right then and there. The thought of having to survive three hours on campus in such a state horrified her.

   Breathing through the nausea, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and shot Sophie a blunt text that read: at death's door. never coming out with you again.

   Only after she had chugged an entire bottle of water and swallowed two painkillers did she even think about tackling the stairs.

   When she finally made it to the kitchen what felt like hours later, still thirsty and understandably irritable, Sabrina was already there buttering a slice of toast. Her blonde hair was damp from the shower, and she was dressed in a pretty sage green jumper that had once belonged to Arabella.

   "Morning, sleeping beauty." The Welsh girl snickered at the sight of her friend.

   Arabella flipped her the finger and made a beeline for the sink, filling a mug with water and downing the whole thing as if she had been stranded in the Sahara for a week.

"I assume you're not coming to campus today?" Sabrina questioned, amusement still evident in her voice as she sat down at the island with her toast and a fresh cup of tea.

Arabella also pulled up a chair, gritting her teeth at the dreadful scraping noise it made against the floor.

"Have to. I've got a meeting with Jenny in an hour." She grumbled, referring to her dissertation supervisor. All she wanted was her nice warm bed and maybe a lobotomy, but there was no rest for the wicked unfortunately.

"Oh, that's rough." Sabrina winced. "Did you at least have fun last night? I didn't hear you come in."

Arabella managed a half-smile.

"Yeah, I had a great time actually. Sophie's boyfriend is lovely. Have you met him?"

"Yeah, briefly. He seemed nice." Sabrina pulled the sleeves of the sweater down over her hands to keep them warm. "I'm glad you had fun, anyway. I was stuck inside doing that bloody Renaissance crap."