High School Not So Sweetheart

High School Not So Sweetheart ch.8

EIGHT

I couldn't remember the last time I woke up with such a horrible headache, probably because nothing has ever hurt this much. Ignoring the fact I couldn't remember a damn thing about last night, I groaned and stretched on the comfortable bed I was on. At least I could sleep all day in my-wait a minute! 

Surprised to see that I was definitely not in my own room, nor was I in my own clothes. I yelped and fell off the bed.  

"Ah damn, my fricken head," I complained, holding my head in my hands before almost immediately getting back to the point of where I was exactly. I slowly stood up from the floor and walked over to the couch where I thought someone was sleeping. I was right. Tristan was sleeping in what looked to be a rather uncomfortable position. 

"You!" I exclaimed, pointing at him evilly. 

He shot up, awakened by my loud voice. Good, that jerk! Who knows what he did while I was under the influence! 

He yawned. "Oh, it's just you." 

"Yes, it's me! Now tell my why the hell I'm here!" 

Rubbing his eyes, he lazily answered, "You were drunk." 

"So you brought me here? We...we didn't...you know...did we?" If Tristan and I did anything last night, it'd be the worst mistake I ever made. 

I waited for a moment for him to answer, but instead he started laughing uncontrollably.  

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why the hell are you laughing? It's a logical question since I can't remember a damn thing about last night. Besides, I'd like to know as soon as possible so I can start planning my suicide if necessary." 

He finally stopped laughing after another minute, answering, "Of course not." 

I let out a sigh of relief as I fell back onto the couch next to him. "That's good. Now, whose clothes are these and how did they get on me?" 

He rolled his eyes at me. "They're my sister's and you put them on yourself. I was a little surprised though, considering how shitfaced you were." 

I leaned my head back on the couch and closed my eyes. "I know, I have the headache to prove it, which brings me to my next question: do you have aspirin?"

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"Good morning. Alexis, it's nice to see you." Tristan's mom greeted as she walked into the kitchen. 

I almost choked on my bowl of cereal, mentally cursing Tristan's assurance that his mother wouldn't be up for another couple of hours. If only he was here right now. "Morning! I just, uh, came by to...to ask Tristan something!" This was the best excuse I could come up with. Obviously I'm not the best under pressure. 

She smiled warmly, as she usually does, and poured herself a cup of coffee. "You're not a very good liar, Alexis. I heard you and Tristan come in late last night." 

I gaped at her. "It's not what you think! Believe me, your son is probably the last person I'd choose to be with-not that it's because he's your son! You know what I mean...right?" 

She laughed as I let out a frustrated sigh. "Don't worry, I understand, though I still think you and Tristan wouldn't be so bad together." 

It was my turn to let out a laugh then. "Well, I guess that makes one of us." 

She shrugged. "You never know. Anyway, do you want to talk about anything? Something clearly made you upset last night." 

I looked away from Tristan's mom for a minute before starting to answer her question. I mean, I did owe her an explanation for my unusual behavior last night. "It's just..."