Samantha's P.O.V.
"If you can't be happy. You can be drunk."
I remember when this started. This intoxicating addiction to that hard happiness in a bottle.
It all started that day I lost him. I loved him to the very core of the earth. Through the soft, hard, and hot moments. Steven was my all.
I loved his blonde hair and bad ass ways that once you got to know him turned into a puppy like sweetness.
I miss his intense green eyes most of all. What I would do now to see them again.
So cluelessly, I always took his love for granted. I thought I'd have him, well forever...
I rub my head in frustration as I roll out of bed.
I wish he didn't die the way he did. He fell off a five story building working on construction. He had that job because of me.
After I graduated he was going to buy a house and we'd planned to live happily ever after.
It hurts to just think about him and when sober I seem to do that all the time. Alcohol forces me to be social and cheat on my loneliness.
Yet when I wake up there it is beating me inside for just thinking of wanting to be happy.
I looked into the mirror. I mean really looked. My face was puffy and my eyeliner was smeared. I wiped it mostly off with my fingers.
This was not the same girl he fell in love with the healthy auburn hair and permanent smile. Taking another look at myself before grabbing my backpack and heading out.
I got into my old pick-up truck and slammed the door. I hate this truck. I could feel the hangover taking over the majority of my sanity.
I winced as I held my head. "Damn it!", I growled slamming my hand on the steering wheel.
A loud knock made me jump. I glanced over at my side window with aggravation.
My eyes widened. "Timothy?", I said as he waved nerdily. Uh...
I rolled down my window. "Why are you here?", I asked trying to be nice. He smiled and ran his fingers through his curly brown hair with a big white smile.
"I live only a few blocks from you and walk to school everyday.", he said lifting his shoulders as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"and besides when I saw you beating your steering wheel with a good bit of fury. I thought to myself. Is she okay?"
Everything in me that was tense. Unclenched for a moment. He was just being nice and checking on me to see if I was okay.
"Oh, I'm fine.", I said with a fake smile.
His eyebrows lifted in a funny way. "You expect me to believe that?"
I looked up at him and realized his face had turned serious. His jaw was set and his brows were furrowed. "I'm sorry, Samantha. But I could pratically smell your breath through that glass. You can't go to school like this."
I shook my head. Yes I could. I'd done it before. I tried to keep forcing the smile onto my face but all of a sudden my stomach didn't quite agree with my head.
"Move!", I shouted as Timothy took a huge step back and I threw open the door to vomit.
Once I'd thrown up, I leaned back and felt my cheeks grow pale. Timothy ran to the other side of the truck and opened the door.
"That's it! I am taking you back into your house.", he said leaning over the passenger seat to unbuckle and pick me up.
He didn't seem to care that I stunk or the fact I was just about unconsious.
"Help a guy out.", he grunted putting my arms around his neck. I gripped him as tight as possibly due to the fact I was afraid of heights.
After that he effortlessly carried me inside and placed me on the couch. He instantly headed for the kitchen peeking into the refrigarator and cabinets.
"Hey! I barely know you and you're raiding my kitchen?", I said as the pain started again and my head fell back.
"Would you like to come look for something yourself?", he asked sarcastically, looking up at me from the fridge.
I flipped him off. God. He's a smartass! He snickered.
After a few minutes, Timothy walked back over with a tray.
On it was an alka seltzer morning relief, a cup of orange juice, and some vegetable juice.
"Take the alka selter before drinking the orange juice. The vegetable juice is optional.", He said handing me a glass of water dropping the two round tablets into it.
I looked up at him. "Thank you.", I said really meaning it.
"No talking. Just drinking!", he scolded. I rolled my eyes as I drank it down in three seconds. "Well... slow down there! That's how you got into this situation?", he added with a grin.
I gave him a irritated "go to hell" look as he handed me the orange juice.
"What's with the billy goat eyes? Drink.", he demanded. I took a few sips and put it down.
"Just take a nap and you'll be fine.", he said thoughtfully, running his hand over my head.
He was a good friend. Actually a great friend.
Better than most, I thought to myself as I looked up into his caring blue green eyes. I felt my eyes start to get drowsy as he lifted me again.
I woke up in my room. I stared at the dark space it had become. It used to be crowded with posters and pictures of Steven and me.
I looked up at the blank white ceiling for only a moment. Before looking around my pretty basic bedroom again. A dresser, A bed but yet nothing sentimental lied anywhere.
I sat up looking over at my alarm clock. My eyes widened.
I had slept for four hours!
"Timothy?", I said loudly. He must have left.
Now I feel like a total b****. I haven't done one thing even remotely nice for him and there he was treating me like a true friend...
Promise the chapters will be longer next time. Thank you for reading this chapter! Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow. :) XOXO - Lovelyloser17
