King and Queen

King

I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing and I had the worst headache imaginable.

I groaned and made a move to answer the phone, but it went to voicemail before I could pick up. When I finally managed to grab it, I noticed that I had over thirty texts and twenty missed calls. The messages were from different people asking why MAYA and I broke up.

Since when did we break up?

The calls were all from MAYA. I immediately began to worry. I called her back with a sense of worry sinking in my stomach.

I hope she's okay.

She answered on the first ring. I heard her sigh heavily before she mumbled, "Thank God."

"Is everything okay?" I rush out not even bothered with saying hello to her.

"Yeah." she says in a confused tone. "Are you not angry?"

What is she talking about?

"Why would I be angry? And why is everyone thinking that we broke up?" The more thought I put into the situation, the more my confusion and my headache intensified.

I hear her breathe out a heavy breath before speaking. "You haven't seen them yet, have you?"

"Seen what, baby? What are you talking about?" I question her.

I hear her sigh again and inhale deeply as if she were unsure whether or not to tell me something.

"There was a picture of me and this guy named GRANT, at the party last night."

"Okay..." I trail off knowing that she isn't done with her explanation. I don't want to get angry without knowing the full story.

"We weren't doing anything though." she continues, "It just looks really bad. I'm so sorry I even put myself in that situation. You know I love you, right?"

I'm not really sure what I should be thinking right now. MAYA just told me that there's a picture of her that looks like she's cheating on me, but she claims that she didn't.

I don't know if I can believe her though. She did answer the phone apologizing and sounding like she felt guilty about something. Would she tell me if she cheated, or would she lie about it?

"CALEB?" she asks hesitantly.

"Oh, um...yeah. I love you too MAYA. I just have a killer hangover and I need to go take some pain killers."

"Okay..." she trails off, "Talk to you later?" she says, as though it were a question.

"Yeah, of course." I reply.

What the hell am I going to do?

I get up from my bed and almost fall face first onto the carpet.

"How did I even get home last night?" I wonder aloud.

I sit back down on the bed and place my head in my hands. Sighing heavily, I run my hands through my hair.

What even happened last night? I don't usually drink that much. After what happened with LYLA I rarely even drink, period.

I struggled to keep her from falling to the ground. Why did she pass out? She can't be that drunk, can she?

Once I got a better hold on her, I shifted her so that I was cradling her in my arms. I walked over to the bed and laid her down.

How am I going to get her out of here. I can't just leave her here, she was already almost assaulted tonight. Leaving her here would just increase the chance that it would actually happen again.

I feel around my pockets for my keys. They aren't in my pocket. Where are they?

I get off of the bed and start looking for them. I crouch down and start looking under the bed. I reach my hand under and pull out my keys. They must have slid underneath the bed when I tried to keep her from falling.

With my keys gripped in my hands, I attempt to scoop LYLA into my arms. Only to almost drop her in the process.

I set her back on the bed and try to, once again, pick her up. This time, I manage to get a better grip on her and I leave the room.

The bass of the music is blaring loudly when I step out of the room clutching LYLA.

I try to keep my balance and keep LYLA from falling from my arms as I carefully walk down the stairs. Successfully keeping myself and LYLA from falling, I walk out of the door with her and begin heading for my car.

I try to shake away the thoughts from that night. The dynamics of both mine and LYLA'S lives had changed so much since then, it were as though we were completely different people now.

I stand up and walk to my en suite bathroom, in search of something to soothe my pounding headache.

I don't even turn the light on, in fear that my headache would only intensify. I rummage through one of the many drawers in the bathroom and finally find the medicine.

Gripping the pill bottle tightly I unscrew the cap, and I shake two of the small red pills into my palm. I swallow them both and chase them down my throat with some water from the sink.

What am I going to do about MAYA? Nothing is making sense. The last thing that is coming to my foggy recollection is me talking to... LYLA.

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