sixteen | hangover

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kyla kovlova —> kyle
nate kovlova —> nate
maura burwood —> maurs

maurs
KYLA where tf are you
delivered 23:47

are you okay?
delivered 23:55

pls let me know if you're with
the uconn girls or not?
delivered 00:24

are you safe?
delivered 00:26

nate
Kyla... are you okay?
delivered 00:45

maurs
i'm really worried now
delivered 02:12

text me as soon as you wake up
delivered 02:13

kyle
oh fuck my life
delivered 07:23








kyleoh fuck my life delivered 07:23

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7th April, Storrs Connecticut

KYLA WOKE UP HER HEAD POUNDING, unsure of where she was or how she managed to get there. All she knew was that the bed she lay in was most definitely not the one she had claimed as hers when she reached her brother's apartment the previous day.

She sat up slowly, adjusting to her surroundings. She'd been in Storrs for less than twenty-four hours and had already managed to get herself into a stupid situation, typical.

Once she spotted the UConn decor that adorned the walls of the room she had awoken in, she immediately moved her head in between her hands, regretting any decisions she had made, and blaming them on the seltzers.

It became even more clear when she noticed the sweatshirt laying on the ground with '5' emboldened on the back.

She wasn't even sure what to do... or what had happened the previous night. However, it was obvious once noticing her clothes strewn across the bedroom floor.

Kyla hopped out of the bed, grabbing a random pair of sweats and the sweatshirt she had spotted before, pulling her clothes into a pile and telling herself she could come back and get them another time.

She slowly made her way out of the room, rubbing her eyes. Before being met with Kamorea Arnold sitting on a couch staring right at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Good night?" KK smiled.

Kyla just ran a hand through her hair, "Arnie, what the fuck happened?"

"Girly pop... you and Paige really hit it off," KK spoke as she let out a laugh, seeing the state the girl was in. "I see you're already wearing her clothes."

𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞?  -  paige bueckers Where stories live. Discover now