Across the Ocean With You - Kyra Cooney-Cross

Chapter Five - Lost in London

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the pounding headache. It felt like a drum beating inside my skull, each thud echoing painfully. My mouth was dry, and my stomach churned unpleasantly. 

As I slowly opened my eyes, the light filtering through the window seemed almost blinding. Squinting against the brightness, I took in my surroundings, and a wave of confusion washed over me.

I wasn't in my own bed. I wasn't even in a bed I recognized. The room was unfamiliar, tastefully decorated but completely foreign to me. Panic set in as I tried to piece together how I had ended up here. I sat up too quickly and was immediately hit with a wave of nausea. 

Clutching my head, I forced myself to take deep breaths, trying to calm down and recall the events of the previous night. It was slightly warm in the room but I was just in my underwear, I frantically looked for any sign to figure out what happened. 

Fragments of the evening started to come back to me—dinner with Bec, Mark, Nicole, Joe, and Liam. Drinks, laughter, feeling more than a little tipsy by the time we left the restaurant. But everything after that was a blur. I couldn't remember how I had gotten here or even whose flat this was.

I forced myself to stand up, though my legs felt shaky and weak. As I stumbled toward the door, I found my clothes strewn across the room, scrambled pulling on my jeans and hoodie and slightly stained from a spilled drink. I needed to find out where I was and how to get back home.

I stepped out of the bedroom into a small living area. The flat was neat, with a modern aesthetic. The living room had a comfortable-looking sofa, a coffee table with a few magazines, and a television mounted on the wall. There were no personal items that could give me a clue about whose flat this was.

"Hello?" I called out hesitantly, my voice croaky and weak. No response. The flat was eerily quiet.

I frantically looked for my phone and I finally found it just thrown on the dining table along with my bag. 

I immediately turned on my phone and I had so many messages from Kyra, Dean, Bec, Laura everyone. It was basically 3pm the following day and I'd been passed out for hours and hours. I needed to leave.

As I stepped out onto the unfamiliar street, my head spun with confusion and anxiety. The afternoon air felt cold against my skin, and I shivered despite the mild weather.

Across the road, a small restaurant was perfectly sitting there with the perfect amount of people, I instantly thought I'd be safe there. Without a second thought, I hurried across the street and pushed open the door.

I found a corner table by the window, hoping the view of the street outside would ground me. Sitting down, I pulled out my phone, my hands trembling slightly. I needed to let Kyra know I was okay, despite the chaos of the night before.

Fingers tapping nervously on the screen, I composed a quick message: "Hey Babe, sorry went out with Bec last night and I lost my phone. How are you? I'll call you when I get home." The lie felt heavy on my chest, but I couldn't burden Kyra with the truth now, not while she was focused on her training camp for the Olympics. I pressed send, trying to suppress the guilt that gnawed at me.

I felt a sting of pain in my stomach and it instantly brought tears to my eyes. I knew I needed help, I had no Idea where I was what had happened to me and why I never made it home. 

 I needed help, but I wasn't sure where to turn or what to do next. Should I call Dean? Should I confide in someone here? 

The weight of the previous night's events pressed down on me, threatening to overwhelm. But for now, in this quiet corner of the restaurant, I dialled Dean's number and he almost answered it immediately.