Blue Money | Nick Robinson

Chapter Five: Hungover

The following day, a chilly Saturday, I feel almost tingly about last night.

Between the kiss and everything else I'm buzzing with excitement for the next adventure.

We stole a car, broke about five different rules and managed to get back without getting caught. It's the best feeling, not getting in trouble for something that's meant to get you into trouble. It's like standing on the edge of a roof, about to fall but then you step off, safe from going splat on the concrete.

I never want to lose that feeling. I don't want to go splat, I want to feel the fall.

The concept kind of thrills and scares me at the same time.

In the morning, Eileen drags me to breakfast; I'm reluctant. She even makes me put on a dress.

She looks tired too; with her short brown hair mussed up, smudged makeup, jeans and a t-shirt.

Nick and me share a few glances through breakfast but we're all so exhausted we don't talk much and some of us, like Savannah and Lance, are hungover more than anyone else. With the exception of Blake, we're all fighting off headaches.

I have a dull pain in my back of my head and my bones are kind of achy. My lips are chapped. I glance at Nick when I discover this and then look away just as quickly, he's acting like nothing happened between us. It kinda feels like a bee sting.

Layla drops her fork onto the glass plate at one point. Savannah hisses a shush and Lance groans. It's already loud enough in here; every little noise is like a drill to them.

Savannah is wearing dark sunglasses with her hair pulled into a ponytail that's falling out. I think she might be wearing one of Blake's shirts, or maybe it's Nick's. She drank the most and got the less amount of sleep, she might even still be drunk.

Her movements are lucid and the way she sips water with her lips pursed almost like it has a sour taste. Several of her manicured nails have broken off and she has a tiny dirt stain right next to her left ear.

"I feel like my head is going through a meat grinder," Lance squints down at his French toast, his blond hair falls into his eyes and he sniffles like he's fighting off a cold.

Layla looks the most put together, her hair knotted into a messy bun with a nude colored dress to match her nails. A silky smirk plays on her lips. "Good. "

"Shut up, Layla," Lance snaps. "You're perfect okay, we get it."

"Well," She smiles and crosses her arms happily. "I wasn't fishing for a compliment but thank you."

"It was sarcastic."

Lance slouches on the wooden bench and picks up his fork, full of eggs. He makes a face and drops it.

"Whatever," Layla shifts uncomfortably.

Savannah rubs her temples. "Guys, it's already loud enough in here can we just go back to not talking."

"Yeah, seriously," Nick agrees.

Savannah looks over at him and lifts her sunglasses up. She has a puzzled look on her face. "You aren't even hungover."

"No, you're all just annoying."

I take slight offense to his comment and I clear my throat loudly. He raises his eyebrows at me. I bite the inside of my cheek.

"I didn't mean-" He starts to say.

I cut him off. "Don't even bother, Nicholas."

"Oh, boy," Layla lightly hits Blake's shoulder as if to tell him to sit up and pay attention. He does, still chewing toast and looking from Nick to me.