Flipped (L.T.)

Chapter 11: Mystery Girl

My head is throbbing. I swear in all my life I've never had a hangover this severe. I don't even want to open my eyes or move my head in fear that it will only amplify the pain. What the hell was I drinking last night? All I know is that I started out smart in the beginning, fixing my own drinks, then I just didn't care anymore and took random cups that had who-knows-what in them. I cant even remember half the shit I did; its all just a blur right now. The clearest memory I have of last night is me yelling at Ryan for some reason. I don't know what, but I know I was pissed about something big. I know a lot was weighing on me that night but I cant pinpoint it right now. I'll have to go apologize to them later. I know I was probably being a jerk; that tends to happen when I have one too many drinks.

As much I don't want to, I need to get up. Now that I'm awake, my migraine's growing stronger the longer it goes unmediated. I strain to open my eyes. Its sunny so that adds more pressure to them wanting to stay sealed. If I keep this going, I'll never get up. I pick my arm up, covering my face and push back the cover on top of me. I don't feel the usual morning shivers on my legs, I don't feel hardly anything. I peek down at my legs and they're fully covered; I'm still wearing my jeans from yesterday. I look at my chest and I'm wearing the same T-shirt I wore yesterday as well. At least my shoes are off.

But wait, this isn't my floor.. I have carpet in my room not just hard wood. And this bed, it looks way too expensive to be mine. The walls, my posters aren't there, it isn't even the right color; my room's green not this boring brown. These aren't the furnishings my mum bought me, this isn't the same telly I have in my room. It's too big.

"Where the hell am I.."

Before I can further question my surroundings, I get that familiar gurgle in my stomach and that sour taste in my mouth as last nights consumption of alcohol tries to make a comeback. I take advantage of the room having an attached bath and spill my guts in the toilet. I hate this; I must've definitely went past my limit if my body's resorted back to puking. I don't remember how many drinks I had but I know for sure they didn't taste this horrid going down.

"Ugh.." I groan, wiping the residue off my lips.

My lips, they feel different. I don't know why, but they do. They're a lot smoother, not just because of the vomit, but they're a lot softer by themselves; and plump, almost swollen? I brush my fingers over them and a shiver runs through me.

"The hell.."

It was a numbing, tingling sensation that shot through me and came and went in the blink of an eye. I went for a second touch, trying to figure out what this was. Flashes of me on the balcony come to mind; me leant towards someone, a girl. I kissed her, whoever she was. The more I think of it, the more I remember. Her lips were a velvety texture and seemed to fit mine like a puzzle. It was tantalizing and somehow innocent at the same time. It wasn't planned, or was it? I cant decipher which, but I know neither of us pulled away.

Who was it? The mystery girl I shared a kiss with on the balcony. It seemed like a scene out of a movie, one that I cant recall now but would like to. Whoever she was, she made it memorable enough to fight its way through the alcoholic fog that clouds my memory. She was good. I'd love to see what shes like when I'm sober enough to see her face.

I hear a knock come outside the bathroom, stopping my reminiscing of the previous night.

"'Ello?" The voice echoes through the room. They're inside now. "Hey, Lou, you 'wake?" Its Arnie.

"I'm in the bath!" I call out from my position by the toilet. So I'm still at Arnie's house? Wheres everyone else?

I hear the flap of bare feet approach the door and Arnie's head pops into the door way. "Mornin' gorgeous." He smirks. "Sleep well?"