The Only Constant Is Change

I Think I "Like-Like" You

"But what do I say to her?"

"Just tell her exactly what you told us!"

"Why can't this wait until the morning, when she's sober?"

"You didn't see her face when Cassidy told her you were kissing Jayden, she's as sober as she'll ever be. You can talk to her now, or you can wait until she's hungover and ready to kill."

"It's already 3 in the morning. Stop worrying, give her the tea, and make sure she drinks it."

You're jarred awake from your fretful sleep by the whispered argument between Nathan, Lauren, and Hannah occurring outside your door. Groggy, with the pounding headache-of-the-century, you lie in the darkness as the murmurs continue.

"But-" Nathan is cut off by Hannah exhaling loudly, "Where are your keys?"

The confusion is evident in Nathan's muffled voice, "My keys? They're in my pocket…"

There's a loud scuffle outside your door before it flies open, banging into the wall as Nathan is being shoved inside by an angry, angry Hannah. "We've got your keys, and you are not getting them back until you fix this bloody mess you dolt, " Hannah hisses angrily, dangling Nathan's keychain in front of his face before Lauren yanks the door closed right in his surprised face.

---

"I feel a bit violated. Your friend Hannah is… feisty." he finishes uncertainly. Nathan's standing at the foot of your bed, holding a steaming cup of tea and a small bottle, looking a little bit worse for wear. Sitting up, you groan as a sharp stab of pain erupts behind your eyes, increasing the pounding pain of your headache.

"You got the short end of the stick, Adrian. Not only is it already morning, but I'm also hungover. Congratulations." you mumble, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back against the wall behind you.

"Oh, right. Hannah thought you'd probably need some tylenol…" you feel your bed sink under his weight, and when you reluctantly open your eyes again, he's sitting in front of you. His brown eyes are full of worry, and you notice with a pang of guilt just how tired he looks. You take the cup of tea from his hands, silently thanking the gods for Hannah's foresight to include tylenol as he hands you the small bottle.

The calming scent of honey and green tea is nearly as soothing as the warmth that spreads through your body as you wash down two pills with the steaming tea. Playing idly with the string of the teabag, you try your best to avoid looking up at Nathan. He stares at you for a while longer, the silence hanging heavily between the two of you before he exhales, flopping onto his back.

Only then do you dare look up to see him laid out on your bed, one arm flopped out by his side, the other laid over his eyes.

Freakishly tall, you can't help but think as you note how his head is almost over the edge of your bed even though he's laying down with his legs propped up in a triangle. Your eyes wander idly over his legs and you hate yourself for being instantly drawn to the stretch of exposed skin above his shorts where his shirt has ridden up.

Forcing yourself to look back down at your tea, you break the silence, "Why are you still here, still talking to me Nathan?"

"Your friends have my keys, I have no choice," he responds with a short laugh. You risk glancing up from your tea, quickly looking back down as you catch an eye peeking out at you from under his arm.

The dense silence falls over the room again, the soft whir of your laptop punctuated with the sounds of your breathing.

"I'm still here," he says in a quiet whisper, forcing you to strain to make out his next words, "because I think I like-like you."