Take Your Chances, I'll Take Mine.

Chapter Five

The first thing Dan noticed when he woke up was his lack of pants. The second thing he noticed was his lack of a shirt. The third thing he noticed was voices, talking in low murmurs across the room. Dan wanted to go back to sleep.

His head pounded like a kickdrum and he groaned aloud, bringing the quiet conversation across the room to a screeching halt.

"Time'sit?" Dan slurred, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

"8:15" a voice, Phil's voice, said gently. Dan cracked one eye open.

"Why am I naked?" Someone across the room chuckled, but Phil's voice was as gentle as ever when he responded: "Do you not remember what happened yesterday evening?"

A montage straight out of a movie flashed through Dan's head in full panoramic colour, from his migraine to his and Chris' fight to the fact that he puked all over Phil. Oh fuck, he puked all over Phil.

"Anything I say about that's probably just gonna dig me deeper, isn't it?" Dan asked. He could almost hear Phil's nod from the corner of the room.

"Don't worry about it. Honestly." Phil walked into Dan's field of vision, smiling softly.

"Sorry about vomiting on you," Dan said, his voice sounding as if he was disappointed in himself more than anything else.

"Hey," Phil softly reassured, as if he were approaching a wounded animal, "it's okay, it wasn't your fault. Couldn't have been, you blacked out immediately afterward."

"Oh, and sorry for complaining yesterday when you did my work, I really should have thanked you."

"Not a problem, but, if I may ask, what caused the change of heart."

"I'm too tired to argue."

"Fair enough."

"I can do more of the project today, if you want."

"Dan, please don't take this the wrong way but-"

"Grades?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, it's a fair point, and the reason I was paired with you."

Phil giggled, and Dan noticed something: this is one of the few times they had been civil and he would much rather hear Phil laugh than fight with him. This realisation was quickly followed by blushing, and vehement mental denial.

"What's with the blush you're sporting?"

"Thoughts."

"Might they be thoughts of the sexual variety?" Phil said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, my god, you've been spending way too much time with Chris." Dan joked, but he seemed to choke on Chris' name. "Uh, how is he, by the way?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, haven't talked to him since before your guys' fight. Though, I must say it was odd of him to turn down a fight, he seems like the type to always stand his ground."

"He is, that's what worries me."

Phil just nodded silently as he packed up his stuff for the field trip that day, mostly just a notebook and pens tossed into his backpack, which he then slung over his shoulder.

"What the fuck even are we supposed to be doing?" Dan asked, sat on the edge of his bed and swinging his legs in an almost childish way.

"We'll know when the teacher does her lecture– fuckery of a thing," Phil said, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was just so tired, and the events of the past day had done a lot to drain his usually boisterous personality.