Splash

10 • in which serena says thank you

Hope you guys like it.

I woke up with a pounding migraine and drool on my cheek. I could barely even think. My eyes opened slowly, and I started to make out my surroundings. I was in my room, but how? I reached out to my bedside table for my phone, to see that it was plugged into the charger already. There was an unopened water, Advil, and a granola bar sitting next to my phone. I was so dehydrated, I downed half the water in seconds. But who would know that I always have to eat something before I take pills?

What even happened last night?

I sat up slowly, still in my clothes from last night, but my shoes and socks were off. My hair was probably a rat's nest, my makeup probably smudged and I may or may not puke in the next 5 minutes.

As I sat up, my head spun. Damn, I was hungover. I reached over to see what time it was and saw that I had over 20 text messages and missed calls asking if
I was okay. After turning down the brightness on my phone to the minimum, I slowly typed out a response to everyone as I munched on the granola bar.

I made it home, I'm fine, don't worry.

I downed two Advil and forced myself out of bed. I stumbled to the bathroom and refused to look at myself in the mirror. I spent my whole shower under the hot water just trying to piece together what happened last night. I definitely didn't go home with someone, that was for sure. I only remembered showing up, drinking maybe a little more than I should've (damn Tessa for convincing me to do shots with her), and dancing to Forever by Chris Brown with Myles.

And then it hit me.

MYLES.

What. The. Fuck. Did. I. Do.

I groaned. Of all the guys who were there and saw me in my drunken state, why did it have to be Myles that I plucked from the crowd and why did he have to be so damn sweet as to take care of me? I could barely remember what happened last night, much less what I said or what was said to me. But there was one moment that was engrained into my mind, clear as day, that I couldn't stop replaying.

It was me and Myles dancing on the coffee table. I had just almost slipped, and he caught me, his arm wrapped around my waist, his hand cold against my warm skin, his face inches from mine. God, I wanted to kiss him so bad, I wanted him to kiss me so bad. It made me cringe to think of how desperate he probably thought I was now. He just told me he wanted to be friends and then I go again and try to flirt with him. Good one, Serena.

I stepped out of the shower feeling considerably better than I did 20 minutes ago, my headache somewhat lessening, my body still feeling like it was hit by a monster truck, but just maybe a baby monster truck. As I finished brushing my wet hair back and wrapped my towel around my body, I heard my phone go off on the dresser. It was a text from Riley.

The best cure for a hangover is pretending you don't have a hangover. Look at your driveway. Can't wait to hear all the details! ;)

I looked out my blinds to see Riley leaning against her car, looking like a damn Lululemon model. Her hair was perfectly tied up in a bun, she wore a light gray jacket and dark blue leggings with black Nikes. How the hell could she have gone out last night and woken up like that?

I forced myself to put on makeup just in case we happened to see someone we  knew (read: Myles). I brushed concealer under my eyes and powder over my face, curled my lashes and decided that I would just wear sunglasses the whole time. I pulled on black Lululemon shorts, a flowy plain white v-neck, and my black Ray-Ban aviators with a pair of Nikes. I looked at my wet hair in the mirror and decided to not even bother.