Falling for Phil (An AmazingPhil Fan-fiction)

Chapter 20

 I pulled my T-shirt over my head and barged through the lobby doors. Elliot's wet feet slapped eagerly against the cold tile behind me. He painstakingly tripped over his own words, attempting to muster up a complete sentence, but could only stammer out a couple words such as, "I didn't-" and, "I forgot- ". Overall he settled with keeping it short and sweet by saying, "I'm drunk, Haley."

"Me too. That's no excuse for coming onto your friends." I bitterly replied, not daring to look at his sorry ass. "I don't need something else to feel sorry about."

He sighed deeply. The December air was really starting to get into my bones and I came to realization I was in a bad situation here. I was still in no condition to drive myself home. I was too tipsy, and would rather not risk it.

"Please don't tell Milo or Mari about this. They'll hate me. This is the second new girl I've come onto." He whimpered as he buried his head in his hands. My insides lurched at his level of indecency. 

"You're a pig." I snarled, trying to put as much distance between him and I.

I resided beneath a streetlamp and went on my phone.

This night is seeping with deja vu. Yet again here I am, drunk ol' me, salty as fuck, trying to get home. I suppose this isn't the first time I've become another doll in the toy bin for some British asshole, either.

I looked over my shoulder to see Elliot walking toward the back parking lot. Thank God he was leaving. We all had parked in the back, for what reasons I can't remember, but at least I didn't have to stand around with him any longer. I glanced back down toward my phone.

I swiped through my contacts, oblivious of who to call.

Taylor maybe?...

No, we had a fallout because I turned into a piece of shit.

Dan?

I couldn't... He cherishes sleep as much as I do. I furrowed my eyebrows thinking as hard as my drunken brain could. I tapped my phone against my forehead cursing underneath my breath. 

"Fuck it. I'm walking to that gas station!" I pointed a finger toward the Shell sign off in the distance. I'll walk there and get a snack or two and hopefully I will be all sobered up by the time I come back over here. 

The wind licked at my skin making me shiver.  "Ri- ght after I get my coat from my car, and put  some pants on!"

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I twirled the sleeves of my sweater listening to the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes. It was my Grandpa's sweater and besides it being slightly itchy, it did it's job and warded my body from the cold. It had horizontal stripes of different shades of brown, and a thick collar that was about a centimeter away from passing for a turtle neck.

 As I got closer to the gas station my mind yearned to make up nothing but the worst scenarios. I'm not sure what the crime rate is in this country but I didn't to be a part of whatever percentage it happens to be. 

I approached the curb that etched it's way to the gas station doors and briskly walked alongside it. My little heart skipped with fright as I rounded near a dark corner where dumpsters resided. 

I returned to my normal stature as I brushed through the illuminated doorway. A bell rang above head signaling my arrival, and I instantly levitated to the snack section. I swiped a bag of pretzels from the shelves and headed toward the clerk who was hunched over half unconscious.

For several seconds I stood awkwardly watching this mess of a human sleep, not knowing whether to walk right out of here or spend three dollars like any good samaritan would. The knotted curls of his hair covered his eyes from the light and my view. His hair reminded me of Dan's hobbit hair but a very dirty blonde.

 I cleared my throat hoping to catch his attention. There was no avail. I was stuck watching his back rise and fall in a serene rhythm. 

"Excuse me," I called out, tapping on the counter. "sir." I poked at his shoulder ignoring the obscenity of touching a stranger.

He sprung to life with wide eyes. As soon as he realized where he was he instantly bowed his head and rang up my purchase. He told me the total amount due, finally making eye contact. 

Instead of reaching into my pocket to grab some money, I narrowed my eyes precariously. His eyes. Sure they were underlined with a smooth violet purple, evidence of his exhaustion, but his eyes themselves. They were a slick gray, and left me with a case of deja vu for the third time tonight.  

"Maximilian?"