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» Eighteen

Wilmer had seen every text that I had sent him. He knew I was desperate to talk to him, he knew that I was hurting and wanted to fix things, but he didn't care. He was done with me. I had started drinking. Started? Continued. I had continued drinking. Being only nineteen, I couldn't exactly buy the alcohol myself, but I had my ways. I didn't have anyone who actually gave a fuck about me anymore though.

I downed the last of the vodka from the bottle before placing it next to me. The alcohol running through my veins at least gave me a reason to feel so numb. I was so alone, the bottle of alcohol seemed as if it were my only friend. The alarm sounding suddenly on my phone made me let out a frustrated groan. I had to go to sleep and stop drinking otherwise I was going to miss class. I had lost so much. My family, my love,my sanity... I can't now lose my education as well.

Getting my lazy ass up out of bed and almost tumbling down as I lost my balance was an eventful way to start the morning. I held the edge of my nightstand to gather my coordination. Once I was stable enough, I dressed myself in clothes that really didn't compliment each other in the slightest. I didn't even care though, who the fuck was I trying to impress anyway? Grabbing my bag, I headed out to my car. I really shouldn't be driving but its better than waiting for a train. I was going to be late if I took public transport, and I never get pulled over for breath tests, so why would I on a Monday morning?

..

"Hello, Ms. Lovato" I heard a familiar female voice say. I turned to see my history teacher stood behind me, a stack of papers in her arms as she smiled to me. "Is everything okay? You weren't in class on Friday. I know we don't usually follow up on missing college classes but you never skip, so I just thought I'd ask." The lady smiled to me.

"Hi Mrs. Morris, sorry that I wasn't in History, I had some family stuff to deal with but I'm fine, thank you for asking. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get to class." I smiled politely. The teacher said a soft 'have a nice day.' Before I rushed pass her, heading to Mr. Valderrama's class.

"We tell you what time the class starts for a reason, Ms. Lovato" Wilmer said, drawing the attention of the entire class towards me as I made my way to my seat. The hood of my sweater covering my face as the Rayban's sat to cover my eyes. The daylight wasn't the best for someone with a hangover, but the glasses were also covering my bloodshot eyes from how much I had been crying.
The amount of energy and will power that it even took to come to class knowing I was going to see Wilmer again was enough for my usual week.

Class went by slowly, and my eyes failed me by closing themselves shut. It took so much will power to keep them open, but even then I couldn't concentrate on what was going on in class. Deciding what was best for me in the moment, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the desk, using my folded arms to act as a pillow. "Lovato, am I tiring you?"

I groaned, lifting my head and pushing the sunglasses back so that they were resting in my hair. People looked at me surprised. I looked like trash compared to my usual reserved and well thought of outfits. I didn't even bother brushing my hair that day, simply throwing it back into a pony tail without a second thought. "Go home, you're hungover."

I shook my head and couldn't help the smirk playing on my lips. "Yeah, 'cause you need your space, right?" I asked. The rest of the class looked confused as Wilmer shot me an intense glare. He didn't intimidate me by doing that anymore, I just smiled to the man, picking up my bags and making my way out of the room. "Have a nice day, Professor."
I didn't want to be there anyways. I didn't know rather to cry or drink some more, so I did both once I made my way into my apartment.

Honestly, I didn't know what to do anymore. I felt so incredibly guilty about what I did to him. I shouldn't have handled everything the way in which I did. I'm nineteen years old for crying out loud, I'm an adult, I should know how to handle adult things without lying and running from them. I'm so bloody stupid. I was starting to feel like what he said wasn't true. Does he really love me? Does he even care for me anymore? Will he just forget me? All of these thoughts were running through my head as the alcohol was numbing my mind.

Getting drunk was my way of coping. It was hard to explain how it took my mind off of things though. I went through phases almost. I would first go to tipsy and happy drunk, here is when I would send drunk texts and do stupid immature things. Then I would get to the tired phase of drunkenness, where my eyes would get heavy but my mind would continue to run like crazy. Then I got to sad and angry drunk, here I would sob about everything that had happen. I would throw things at my walls, beat up my pillows, and drink even more. Once that phase had subsided was when I got to numb drunk. I didn't literally go numb, but it took my mind to other things. I would be throwing up, so out of it that I would just sit there and look at my apartment walls. From numb drunk was when I would pass out. Sometimes I didn't want to get to numb drunk, but recently it seemed as if that was the only thing that would help me cope with everything going on in my life.

It definitely wasn't the adult way of doing things, but at this point I didn't know any better.

Hey guyssssss! We apologise for the long wait between this update, it's basically a rly shitty filler chapter to lead into what's to comeeeee (you guys aren't ready oml). But anyway. It's my birthday today (April 25) and I'm 18 sooo that's pretty groovy. It's the 26th here now but it's still the 25th in most of the world so I'm gonna claim it. Anyway, here in Australia, 18 is the legal drinking age so I made my first alcohol purchase and had my first legal drink! (Keyword: legal). My party is on Saturday night and I'm so excited oml but anyway have a nice day, this authors note is probably half the chapter lmao.