This Is Me

Trying To Breathe (Part One)

Trying To Breathe (Part One)

"Peter," a soft voice called out to me. They had been talking for a little while now, but I could never make out what it was saying. As I slowly pulled my mind out of its groggy state, I started to piece it together.

"What?" I managed to mumble out, attempting to roll my head which caused a sharp pain to shoot through it.

"If you're going to keep sleeping, I think you should get into bed."

I knew the voice. I couldn't quite place who it was, but I definitely knew that I knew them.

"No, no. I'll go back to the party."

"Pete, look at me."

Groaning and generally making a big deal out of opening my eyes, even more, I eventually was able to look at the person waking me up.

"Blaire?" I asked, once I finally got a good look at who was in front of me. "Why's it so bright? And why does my head hurt so much?"

"Because it's two in the afternoon on Saturday. And you have a hangover," Blaire said with a smile, holding a glass of water in front of my face. "This isn't the same one I got last night. I promise."

"You got me water last night?" I asked groggily, lifting my head and feeling something unstick from my head and slam back on my desk, where I had been resting it.

"Jesus, Pete. Come on." Blaire moved closer to me and grabbed my arms, making me moan and mumble.

It was as if my body had lost all of its capabilities as Blaire slowly struggled to get me out of the chair I certainly didn't remember falling asleep in and moved me across the room, onto my bed. My head protested against the movement as well, feeling as though it would explode at any moment.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, letting myself be lowered onto my bed and allowing my head to sink into my pillows.

"Okay is a vague word." Blaire chuckled. "Everyone got home safely. Some may have regrets."

"Please tell me you're not talking about me."

"No, no. You just passed out at your own computer desk." I felt my bed sink slightly, and I opened my eyes a slit to see Blaire sitting next to me. "I mean, Andy kissing Carly..."

"Oh... yeah," I muttered, thankful I hadn't done anything stupid. "He was furious when she broke up with him," I added, more so thinking out loud than answering Blaire.

"Should we tell him?" Blaire asked, repositioning herself on my bed and moving to lay beside me.

"Hopefully, he remembers. He usually has a pretty good memory after a big night like that."

"How's yours?"

"Pretty good. A bit fuzzy on the end of it, though."

"Yeah. At least you're not as bad as Leroy usually is." Blaire laughed, and I followed suit before wincing at the pain in my head. "You may not have Leroy's bad memory, but you've definitely got the hangover part down."

"Shut up."

"You should be thankful. Hell, you could make out with Leroy when he's drinking, and he wouldn't remember a thing!" Blaire exclaimed, and I groaned. "You're lucky you only have a sore head."

"Yeah..." my voice faltered slightly as my mind skipped at Blaire's words.

Kissing Leroy wasn't something that I wanted to be thinking about, especially now that I was starting to feel something for him. I didn't want to make things weird or awkward, but not thinking about it wasn't as easy as that. The alcohol that I had been drinking wouldn't be helping, but even when I was sober, I couldn't not think about him like that. He always seemed to play on my mind ever since Monday night when he smiled so brightly at me.