Wounded; A Brallie Fan Fiction *EDITING*

Chapter Nine: Blazed

Callie's POV
Last night, Jesus and I ended up sleeping in the car a couple of blocks away from the motel. He didn't want to bring me to meet his girlfriend and her brother while I was wasted; he said her brother was scum, and he'd jump at any chance to take advantage of a girl who wasn't in her right mind.

In the morning, I found myself curled up in the backseat of an empty car. There was a neutral printed quilt over my body, and a small plastic bucket on the floor, which, thankfully was empty.

Groggily, I sat up straight and ran my hands through my hair, finding that it was greasy and even more tangled than before. I looked out the window and saw that we were at a gas station, parked in front of a gas pump.

I stepped out of the car, despite how unpresentable and indecent I appeared. I needed the fresh air in my lungs, which were dry and and dehydrated. The cool air whipped me in the face and blew my hair to the front of me.

Jesus came out of the gas station and approached the car with two plastic water bottles in hand. His hair, like mine, was also an unkempt mess, though I was sure I was far more disheveled than he was.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," he mocked as he settled into the car. "You look like a pleasant piece of crap today."

"Still doing the sarcasm thing?" I asked.

"I've been doing it for fifteen years, it's not gonna change anytime soon," he said as he handed me one of the water bottles.

"Thanks," I said, without wasting a single second in between receiving the water and chugging it like it was the last amount of hydration I'd ever get. We piled back into the car, and I became aware of the pounding ache on the left side of my head.

"Do you remember last night?" Jesus asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

With that, I pinched my eyebrows together in humiliation of however I behaved in the hours of last night's intoxication.

"I remember singing the Star-Spangled Banner while you tried to sleep," I said shamefully. "And I do recall vomiting over the land somewhere."

Jesus bellowed out a chuckle. "That was disgusting, but it's going in the memory book. That all you remember?"

"That and a lot of laughing. But that's about it."

"You cried, too." Jesus said.

"I cried? About what?!"

"Something about trees and how they don't get enough love." Jesus said, a smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I remember!" I exclaimed. "It was because-"

"Because you puked on a tree and felt bad about it." Jesus said, amused.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to be equally amused by the vague, stomach-churning memory.

"Do you remember what you told me right after I picked you up?"

I snapped my head in Jesus's direction, wide eyed and ghost faced. My mind boggled as I sifted through the few memories I had of last night, but I couldn't remember much of the first couple hours after Jesus came to get me.

"What did I tell you?" I asked him in a faint voice, so light that it almost wasn't there.

Jesus's jawline tightened. "That you and Brandon hooked up."

That's what I was afraid of, I thought to myself as I let my head fall back against the seat. I breathed in through my mouth and out through through my nose, attempting to calm myself as I searched for a way to explain myself to Jesus.