This Year's Love // Michael Clifford

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brittany Dawson

I wake up with a roaring headache and a gut feeling that I'm about to hurl all over the place. I clamber from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. The problem is, the bathroom in my hotel room is not where it should be. In fact, it's on the opposite side. This isn't even my hotel room.

I whip around to catch a fluff of red hair lying on the pillow next to where I just was. I cringe, looking down at myself to see that I was, thankfully, fully clothed in what I wore last night. I'd forgotten about the whole coming back to Michael's hotel last night until now.

While I was cringey about the whole situation in waking up in his bed, I remember that we made amends the night before. That meant a lot to me, even if Michael wanted more and I was hesitant on if I did, things still went fairly smooth.

Upon remembering that I was about to throw up the whole five shots of straight vodka I downed last night, I fling open the bathroom door. I bend over the toilet, feeling everything in my stomach come up. While I'm not a lightweight drinker, my stomach disagrees with the small amount of alcohol I consumed.

"Brittany, you okay?" Michael's groggy morning voice appears behind me.

I go to reply, but more vomit spews from my mouth and into the toilet. In an instant, Michael is behind me and holding my newly dark brown hair (black before). He rubs my back encouragingly as I continue to contaminate the toilet even further than it was before I entered the bathroom.

"I'm going to get you some medicine from my bag and a water bottle," Michael tells me when I finished and flushed the toilet.

I nod at him as he exits the bathroom. I find one of the complementary toothbrushes that the hotel provides on the sink, taking it and Michael's toothpaste. I proceed to brush my rank teeth and decontaminate my filthy mouth. Michael returns just as I'm rinsing my mouth out with his mouthwash. I spew the rest into the sink, and then turn around and accept the pills and water bottle he held.

"Thanks," I say, swallowing down the pain killers and half the bottle of water.

"We have the day off. Did you want me to go get some food and then we can just hang out and watch Netflix all day?" Michael asks.

I smile at the idea, glad that he remembered one of my favorite pastimes. He exits the bathroom, leaving me alone. The sound of the front door shutting comes soon after and I get my stuff together (basically my shoes, phone, and hotel key) and exit the room, too.

I enter my room, closing the door behind me. I trudge over to my suitcase, pulling out a comfortable outfit for Michael and I's day in. The smile never leaves my face as I think of the day ahead of us.

Just like old times, I think.

I enter my bathroom, hopping in the shower. The water encompasses me, trickling down my body. I wash my hair, face, and body, then hop out soon after. I change into the outfit I had laid out (and you'd be damned to think I was wearing a regular bra over a sports bra) afterwards, then make my way back to Michael's room.

I knock on the door, lucky that he was in there to open it up. I didn't even think about him not being back before me, but he was. I walk in and he kicks the door closed behind me.

"You look good," he comments. "I like this you more than the you last night."

"What was wrong with me last night?" I ask.

"Too short and too girly," he implies. "And too not you."

I roll my eyes, taking a seat on the side of the bed I woke up in. Michael takes a seat beside me with his laptop and phone. In front of us is a bundle of different snacks and drinks ("I just couldn't choose because I know you like apple juice, but you really like Dr. Pepper, too.").