A Loser With A Cellphone (Alex Standall)

41

Alex was no stranger to hangovers, but this was a particularly brutal one - and the fact that the mystery girl had been there to witness whatever humiliating drunken acts he had done made it ten times worse.
But also...he could be closer to finding out who she was. Maybe somebody else had seen the two of them together and could tell him. He had a feeling that she wouldn't like him asking around, but his desire to find out who she was pushed his knowledge of that to the side.
He was tempted to stay in bed until the awful, yucky feeling went away, but he needed to get home, take a shower, maybe ask whoever was still here what they had seen. He slowly made his way out of bed, trying to fight back the gripping nausea as he downed the Advil and made his way downstairs.
He was greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs creeping into his nostrils, and the sound of Jessica calling out, "Hey sleepyhead!" She was one of those people who, annoyingly, never seemed to get the negative effects of a night filled with alcohol. She woke up the next morning just as cheerful and energetic as any other day.
Alex knew that he couldn't say the same for himself, and he had to stop and steady his stomach for a second before continuing onwards. He found himself a little nervous before asking her what was on his mind.
"Uhm, did you happen to see who helped me upstairs last night?" He asked, feeling his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Jessica paused for a second, as if trying to recall, before shrugging.
"I was a little caught up with Justin," she admitted casually. Although Alex could feel himself falling for the mystery girl, he felt a slight pang in the heart of being reminded, once again, that Jess had moved on from him well before he ever had for her.
"Thanks," he said, turning around to leave.
"Wait, no, don't go. Why did you want to know? I could ask around, if it's that important to you," she offered.
"Nothing important. It's fine, forget it," Alex said, wanting more than anything to leave at this point.
"At least stay and have something to eat?" She asked, pointing to the bacon sizzling on the frying pan. He shook his head rapidly. "It'll be good for you," she pushed.
"Me vomiting all over your kitchen would be good for me?" He asked, already making a break for the door.
He could just make out her shaking her head with, what? Disappointment? Concern? He couldn't tell, and, to tell the truth, he didn't care.
After everything that had happened, this girl had been left with a greater knowledge of him than before - But he was still right at square one, left in the dark, once again.