If I Stole Your Heart

Chapter 8: Drinker's Remorse

I didn't sleep at all that night, all the alcohol that I had downed was starting to take its toll on me in the worst possible way. My head ached and every noise felt like a stab in my ears.

I pulled my blankets off of me, groaning as I sat up. A small stream of light had seeped in through the window just behind me, the warm glow hurting my eyes as I stood from my bed. I walked to the small bathroom to my left, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror just above the sink. My eyes were red and it looked like I'd been crying, which I had been. Brown waves stuck up in all directions across my head, I ran a hand through them and felt the knots stuck inside. I would need to shower. 

I pulled my shirt off, wet with sweat from last night, and threw it to the ground at my feet. My arms and legs ached as I stepped out of my pants and boxers, adding them to the pile my shirt was in. I slipped my glasses off and set them down on the edge of the sink. I turned the shower on and stepped inside, the cold granite of the floor replaced with warmth and wetness.

The hot water hitting my face helped in soothing my headache. I was beginning to regret the amount of alcohol I had consumed, how shitty it made me feel. Why did I feel the need to drink away what I felt? I ran a wet hand through my hair and pressed my head against the cool white wall just under the shower head. My eyes closed slowly, streams of water washed down my face until I couldn't make out the difference between my tears and the water.

***

Roman was standing outside of the dorms, engaged in a conversation with Sam, his head bent down to better hear my roommate as I stepped out of the dorm room. I pulled my flannel closer around myself, self conscious of the foggy state I was in. Pulling the straps of my backpack over my shoulders I walked past them, my head hung low.

"Hey, Greg." It was Sam, his light brown hair swept low across his forehead and he smiled at me. I felt a panic in my chest, remembering how he had seen me the night before. What if had told Roman? But based on the look Roman gave me, a smile and a light blush I must have imagined on his cheeks, he didn't know anything.

I smiled back, forcing myself to seem happy. "Hello, Sam." My eyes skirted to Roman. "Roman."

"Hi." He said, looking down quickly. His curls, dark and big, fell against his pale skin. His dark shirt, decorated with a picture of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I could feel my smile turning genuine. But it was squashed down as Sam cleared his throat.

"I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with Eliam, Roman, and I this weekend. We're not sure what we're gonna do but I want you there..." He paused, cleared his throat again with slight laugh and spoke. "And Ro, he wants you there too."

Roman lifted his head, his big round eyes wide and his cheeks definitely flushed. I knew my expression must have mirrored his own, but I didn't say anything. "Uhm, OK. Sure, I'll be there."

"Cool, I'll see you." He waved, Roman following suit and I turned away, a smile still playing on my face.

***

The week rolled by with no more alcohol involved. Jamie hadn't spoken to me since that dreadful night, but he wasn't rude to me either, just flashes of a smile and a wave here and there. It made me feel like maybe, after everything we'd been through, after all the words he'd said and I had too, we could be something close to friends. It might have been wishful thinking, but there was no harm in wishing.   

I was more than a little excited about whatever adventure Sam and Roman had come up with. Seeing Roman more was what I needed right then. He brought about smiles and laughs that no one else could.

Sam was in the bathroom now, getting ready for the day. I could hear the soft splash of water and music from Sam's phone coming through the bottom of the door. It sounded like Bowie, distinctly British and unique. I pulled on my shoes, black converse with red laces, and slipped on a maroon t shirt. I had to remind myself this wasn't a date and I didn't need to worry about what I was wearing or how I looked.  We were all just going out as friends.