It's Complicated

Chapter Eighteen

When my alarm goes off the next day, I am seriously tempted to throw it across the room. I clearly had more to drink last night than I thought I had. My head is already pounding and I still have a very prominent nauseous feeling lingering in my stomach. I groan as I reach out and shut my alarm off. Rolling over onto my stomach, I bury my face in my pillow. Midway though debating if I really need my job or not, I remember the events of last night. I remember dancing with Isabelle, and how smooth and easy it had seemed. I remember her leaning in and kissing me. Me kissing back. Something in my stomach twists, making me groan again.

   Turning my head, I look at my alarm clock. I had set my alarm for 11:15 so that I would have a chance to shower before work, and the small digital display is already showing 11:30. I sigh pitifully as I throw my covers back and slowly sit up. My head pounds more as I become more upright, and once again I debate on just calling in sick. Although, I do need to talk to Adam today. Very badly. With my decision final, I stumble to my feet and drag my body to my dresser to grab fresh clothes for the day. I pull out a pair of jeans and a tee blindly before scooping up my other essentials and leaving the room. I pointedly ignore the make-up still scattered across the top of my dresser.

   I flick the light and fan on in the bathroom before moving to turn on the shower spray. As it heats up, I strip down, avoiding looking at my reflection in the mirror. Once the small room starts to get steamy, I pull back the shower curtain and step under the spray of hot water. I hiss a little as the droplets come into contact with my skin, but I don't turn down the temperature. Instead, I back away a bit, slowly moving forward as I get used to the heat.

   Once I'm finally good, I step completely under, tilting my head back under the spray. I let the water run down my head, to my shoulders, then down my back for a few minutes before reaching out and squeezing shampoo in my palm. I step back and lather it in my hair, making sure to keep my eyes closed against the possibility of soapy water running into them. Once it's rinsed out, I lather in conditioner, leaving that to sit for a minute while I squeeze body wash onto my loofah. I scrub the soap over my skin, possibly harder than I really need to, before rinsing both it and my hair out. I continue to let the water stream down over my now clean body for another minute or two, before turning off the water and reaching up to squeeze out my hair.

   Once I'm towelled off, I pull my clothes on, finally taking notice of what I grabbed. For the first time in a while, I'm wearing regular denim blue jeans with a boot cut leg, slightly flaring out the tiniest bit at the bottom. My shirt is once again black, but this one has an old and faded U2 print on it. My mother had given it to me a few years back when she had finally decided that it unfortunately just didn't fit her anymore. If her stories are true, then she had actually met and hugged Bono while wearing this shirt. Obviously, there were no camera phones back then, so I just have to take her word for it. I like to believe that she's telling the truth.

   I run a brush though my still damp hair, but decide against doing any make-up. I'm finding it decidedly difficult to care today. I flick off the light, leaving the fan on for a while, as I open the door. The noise follows me down the hall and into my room, fading to a dull, faraway sound as I step out of the hallway. I drop my laundry in my basket as I pass by on my way to grab my phone. I also quickly snag a hoodie as well, pulling it over my head. It doesn't matter how warm it is outside, I love wearing over sized hoodies when I'm hungover. I tuck my phone in my pocket without checking it, cursing the tight fit. Seriously, why are women's pockets so small?

   My mother is sitting at the dining room table alone, sipping on a mug of tea. It's the mug I got her for Christmas a few years back. The pastel pink one with the rainbow llama saying "I wuv you" on the side. She glances up and smiles, turning into a soft chuckle as she really takes in my appearance.