Fraud Versus Fake

Four

a/n

Once again, I had never had a hangover before, so I'm guessing the feeling from my limited knowledge scraped together from reading other books (anyone who wants to share actual experiences are welcome to). Comments and criticisms are welcome, thanks for reading! Please vote if you like the story.

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When Reese opened her eyes blearily the next morning, the first thing she did was groan at the pain. Frick. Her head throbbed. Her arms felt sore. Her body felt like it had gone through an entire pounding. She blinked at the bright sunlight filtering through the curtain, the light prickling the inside of her head.

"Ow." She muttered, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"So you're awake." An amused voice rang from the corner of her room and Reese turned her head to the side, too tired to raise her neck, and saw Nate, his signature long hair dragging across his brows, curled up in the position Angelica was in the previous morning. He had a thick book placed on top of his lap, the pages opened to the middle.

"What happened?" Reese groaned, scrunching her eyes together. The pounding had become unbearable.

"Alcohol happened," Nate said simply, taking the book away from his lap and placing it gently on the ground. He stood up and crossed the room to her, a concerned look on his face. "Apparently, the drinks were spiked with a lot more alcohol than Charlotte had ordered. She is furious right now, screaming at everyone on the phone the last I saw her. How are you feeling? The hangover must not feel good."

Reese attempted to shrug. "Had you ever have one before?"

"Surprisingly, yes I did," Nate said simply, sitting down next to her on the bed. Reese moved over slightly, wincing at every move.

"I thought you're all about practicality and common sense. No alcohol until twenty-one. And maybe not even then" Reese teased.

"I am. But then there's Sam and Max."

"Right."

They fell silent for a while.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Nate asked, shifting.

"No." Reese took a deep breath, "I feel like puking up everything I eat."

"Okay, more sleep then?"

"Yeah. Thanks." She squeezed her eyes together, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tension in her body. Within a few minutes, she drifted to sleep again.

When Reese woke again, the sun wasn't as unbearable as it was before. And Nate was no longer in her room. Instead, it was Isabelle, sprawled on the beanbag, staring at the screen of her phone.

"Hey." She drawled when she noticed Reese staring.

"Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

Reese sat up slowly. "Good enough."

"Want some food?"

"Sure."

Isabelle pulled herself up from the beanbag, stuffing her phone in the back pockets of her shorts. "Get dressed then." She ordered, "I'll make you some toast."

After Reese dragged herself up from the bed, give her hair and teeth a quick brush, and pulled on a t-shirt and Max's old shorts from the closet, she floundered downstairs, her eyes barely opened.

"Here." As soon as Reese plopped down on the stool of the kitchen counter, Isabelle placed a plate of golden brown toast in front of her and set a glass of orange juice beside the plate.