The Stars In Your Eyes ✩ Tim Shepard

Hangover

"Good morning."

I jump and nearly bash my head on the faucet above.

Oliver blinks, his face inches away from mine. "Why are you in the tub?" He blinks again, his eyes red. "You're in a tub, you know. Why are you in a tub?"

I groan, rubbing my eyes. What the?

"Leave her alone, Ollie." Whales says. He suddenly appears over Oliver's shoulder, grabbing his arm to drag him away.

I look around. My brain is foggy and pounding like a drum. I don't know, but I somehow ended up in a bathtub. A blanket is tossed over me, and there's a pillow behind my head, but I can't for the life of me figure out where I am.

Whale's sighs, gently shutting the bathroom door after he kicks out the twin.

"Where are we?" I mumble, massaging my temples. It feels like I got hit by a train.

Whales takes a seat on the closed toilet where Oliver was sitting moments before. "My bathroom." He answers as if it were obvious.

I glance around. The bathroom is relatively clean, but there's a grimy window above the bathtub where I lay. I groan again, squeezing my eyes shut. The light burns.

Whales softly chuckles. "I told you not to drink."

"Ugh! Yeah, why don't I listen?" I moan in response, grabbing the sides of the tub to pull myself up into a sitting position. I'm being sarcastic. "What happened last night?" I finally decide to ask, squinting as I look up at the boy.

He grimaces. "Well... after you downed three beers, you and Curly made out. We knocked over the fire barrel and after that, we all came back to my place. Curly, Oliver, and Damian did some drugs, then you fell asleep in the tub after kissing Curly... again..."

My cheeks burn and my spine straightens. "WHAT?"

"Yeah..." Whales gives me an uneasy smile. "Don't worry about it, Curly hardly remembers anything after he gets stoned."

I groan, burying my head in my knees. Whales rubs my back, between my shoulders. "Hey, look on the bright side," He starts, "at least Angela left after you started drinking."

I sigh, fighting back my humiliation. I really hope he's right and Curly doesn't remember what happened.

"I'm such an idiot!" I whine.

Whales snorts while patting my back. "C'mon. Phyllis made breakfast." He grabs my arm to help me to my feet and out of the tub.

Once I'm standing, the dizziness sets in. My head is pounding, and I feel like throwing up. Hangover. How did this happen? I promised myself long ago that I would never drink— that I would never follow in my father's footsteps...

How did I break so easily?

By trying to prove something,

that's how.

Before I can stumble, Whales takes my arm, and places a hand on my back as he guides me to the door. On the other side is a modest living room and kitchen with hanging pictures all around the walls. The shades are drawn, but that makes sense, as I lay eyes on the hungover boys strewn around the room.

Gage and Damien are practically spooning on the ground beside the coffee table, Curly is passed out on the couch, and Oliver is slumped in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, but not asleep. Accompanying them is a pretty, dark-haired girl, with brilliant eyes. She stands in the kitchen, sipping from a milk carton.

When she sees us, a smile falls across her face. She can't be any older than my brother, but she looks older.

"Oh, you boys have really done it this time." She grins, bringing the carton to her lips.

Whales rolls his eyes, seating me at the kitchen table beside Oliver. I follow his lead and rest my head in my arms on the table.

"Your mother's going to kill you." She says, prodding Whales' muscular arm. Her tone is half serious and half cheeky. "She worked a double last night. And drugs? Really? C'mon, Axel, you know better," She slaps the back of his head on her way to the icebox, "use your brain."

My ears perk and before Whales can respond to his sister, I speak up. "Axel?"

The pretty girl, who I assume to be "Phyllis," shuts the fridge door and turns to look at me. Her brow quirks, gaze shooting in her brother's direction. "You still insist on your friends calling you by that stupid nickname?" Her eyes roll heavenward. "Good lord, men."

I snort. Yeah, men.

"Hey! It makes me sound tough, Philly!" Whales objects.

Phyllis and I lock eyes, making us both laugh. Whales looks between us, a confused expression falling across his face.

"What's with that eye contact thing— N- no, never mind." He puts his hands up in defense, stepping into the living room to rouse the other boys.

I chuckle. It's mornings like these I wish I had growing up... where me and my siblings made eye contact when we agreed, or teased each other with playful swats.

Phyllis smiles at me, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs, a glass of water, and two small pills. "Here, it'll help with the hangover." She presses the medicine into my hand, patting my head with the utmost care before she walks away to make plates for everyone else.

From across the table, Oliver gives me a lopsided smile and I briefly wonder if he's still high. He looks like he wants to roll my body up in a rug and hide it above the ceiling. I look away from him, shoving the pills down my throat instead.

"Ugh! What the fuck happened last night?" Curly groans, collapsing into the chair beside me. He grabs my fork, stabbing a bit of the egg off my plate. At least he doesn't remember...

"You got buzzed, little buddy." Damien answers, ruffling Curly's hair before accepting the plate Phyills hands him. "I don't remember anything after that."

"I feel like I got fucked by a rhino." Oliver slurs, holding his head.

Gage rubs his twin's shoulders. "Repeat after me," He teases, "this is why we don't take drugs..."

"This is why we don't take drugs." Whales, Curly, Phyllis, and I say in unison. Oliver groans and Damien shrugs in response. Regardless, we all laugh.

Phyllis shakes her head, pulling back her jet-black locks into a ponytail before checking her watch. "Well I gotta head out, you guys be careful, alright." It's by now that I realize she's wearing the familiar waitressing outfit for the Dingo.

Whales smiles, kissing his sister's cheek. "Be safe, Philly. Bye."

"Bye." Everyone choruses. Phyllis waves goodbye and with that, she's out the door. Now it's my turn to check my watch.

"Shoot," I whisper.

"What's up?" Curly asks.

Standing from my chair, I look at him. "I gotta get home. I got work tonight."

He nods.

Whales puts a hand on my shoulder, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head. "I'll be fine. Thank you, tho."

"I'ma head out too." Damien chirps, "The old man'll be wondering where I am."

"Make that three. Told Bre I'd be over this morning." Gage adds.

Curly and Oliver don't say anything, so I assume they're going to stay a while longer. After this, no more words need to be exchanged. It's like we all mutually agreed to not say our goodbyes. With that, we all part ways and I start back in the direction of my home on the West Side.