Bittersweet Heartstrings

Chapter 12: Hangovers and Set Ups

The next day, or evening, or whatever time it was, I woke up with the worst hangover in my life. Sure, I've had a few, but this one topped them all. My head was pounding and I felt extremely nauseous. I don't know how much alcohol I had drank last night, but apparently, it was a lot. 

All I remember was that somebody had gotten into a fight, but all I did was grab another drink. And another. And another. Everything after that was a complete blur.

It took me a moment before I realized where I was; a bedroom. It took me another second to realize who I was in the bed with and what I had probably done; drunken sex. I hoped to god that all we had done was make out, but that was probably unlikely. 

I quickly found my phone and saw that it was almost two in the afternoon. Hopefully Griffin's parents would be getting home after the house was all cleaned up.

Slowly, I got out of the bed; it was a good move on my part. I knew that if I got up too fast, I'd throw up right away. I already felt nauseous and I knew that if I walked around I would just vomit, so I headed straight to the bathroom and forced myself to.

Then, I headed downstairs, quietly, trying not to wake up anybody else who happened to sleeping right now. When I heard footsteps, I knew I wasn't the only one up right now. Just my luck, it was Griffin.

"I was just leaving," I quickly said when he spotted me. 

"Do you have a ride?" He asked, turning to face me.

I inhaled sharply when I saw his face. He had a large bruise under his eyes and a cut, swollen lip. Now I knew who had gotten into a fight last night. That wasn't even the worst of it. His voice was so sad and gruff, like maybe he had been crying earlier.

Did I mention that he was only wearing pajama bottoms? No shirt. I couldn't help but gawk at his perfectly define abs. 

"Uh, no. I was planning on walking." Truthfully, I hadn't even thought about how I'd get home. I lived approximately a mile, or more, away.

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow at me, which was also cut.

I shrugged my shoulders, then asked, "Why did you get in a fight?"

"Declan's an asshole, just like you said last night." He smirked, then winced from the pain in his lip. "I've been wanting to get in a fight with him for a while, now."

"You still didn't answer my question." 

"To put it simply, someone shouldn't announce to the whole world that his ex has possibly been raped." 

"I suppose that is reason enough to get into a fight, but why do you care?"

"I don't care," He snapped, "I just wanted to punch him in the face and he gave me the perfect opportunity."

"Looks like he wasn't the only one who got some punching down." I noted, giving him a pointed look.

"No shit, Sherlock." He took a seat on the couch and switched on the TV, not caring if he woke anyone up. It was his house, after all. "Do you even remember what you did last night?" He chuckled to himself.

"Please don't tell me I did something completely embarrassing..." I begged.

"Alright, then I won't tell you." He let out a loud laugh when he saw my facial expression. "I'm just kidding. You didn't do anything that embarrassing. More like surprising, if anything."

 "Just tell me now." I sat down on the end of the couch and closed my eyes. 

So, Griffin briefly went over what I did last night. Apparently, I had drunken loads of beer, which I already deduced and  I danced with every guy. Then, Quinn got mad because he saw me doing whatever I was doing and he gave Declan another punch in the face. I thought that was sweet of him. Then, I did "some crazy shit", according to Griffin. He said that I kissed dozens of guys, including him.