If there's one thing Suzy Lestrange is hoping for, it's getting through her second year of university without a hitch, so that she can spend her third year abroad in France.
But when Harry Styles shows up in her life once again, she quickly finds he...
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Saturday, 8th of November, 2014
Given the amount of alcohol I had consumed in my life, specifically since I first started living at Unity Hall, one would think I would have learnt how to avoid hangovers long ago. That, however, was not the case. I was sat on my bed, arms around my pillow, trying my absolute hardest to ignore the nausea swarming in my stomach. It was nearly two in the afternoon, I had barely been awake an hour, and had felt horribly ill for every second of it.
From the second I had woken up, I had cursed every single drop of alcohol I drank the night before, and when remembering it was Harry who had caused me to drink so much, I had cursed him even more. Well, mentally, of course. Although, when remembering that he was attending Bodhi's gig tonight (and I freaked out a little when I also recalled that Harry himself had asked me to go with him — well, not with him, but...it was all the same ), I knew it was the perfect chance for me to curse him in person.
But, after that, my mind had wandered into all thoughts of Harry and just how nice he was to me the night before. I could not recall everything that had happened, but I certainly was aware of how lovely he was, and how he just had such a positive vibe about him as a person. Except, all those thoughts were soon lost when I felt the sudden need to rush to the toilet and empty my stomach into it.
I wandered out to the kitchen afterwards to grab a glass of water, only to see that Mila had passed out on the couch with the arm of a shirtless guy draped around her. I made a mental note to question her about him later, but had decided to quickly grab the 'puke bucket' (which an old friend from the deli I used to work at had bought for me when I left for university last year) and returned back to my bed.
My duvet was wrapped around me and I had my telly on — a repeat of Hollyoaks was playing, though I wasn't really interested — while I tried to think about whether I could be bothered going to the gig. From what I could recall, I think I had asked Mila if she was going, except I could not remember what her answer was. Obviously Violet would be attending, seeing as her boyfriend was the lead singer and all, so if I did choose to go, I would have someone to tag along with — as well as Harry, of course.
The thought of actually leaving my bed, getting ready and going out in public, while supporting a massive hangover had crossed my mind and left barely a second later when I realised how dumb that sounded. If Mila was going, then I guess I would tag along with her... But if she wasn't, then reruns of Happy Endings would be the perfect way to spend my Saturday night.
Almost instantly after my decision was made, the very familiar sound of my phone ringing blasted throughout my room. To be fair, it wasn't really blasting, but my horrendous headache sure made it seem like it was. If it were anyone else, I probably would have ignored it, but the distinct ringtone that was playing belonged to my father, so I reached across my bed and answered my phone in the end. "Hi Papa!" I greeted him, attempting to sound somewhat cheery, even though I felt like my head was being pounded by one hundred kilogram weights.
