alive [h.s.]

Chapter 27

Allison's POV

"Harry, I feel like I'm going to throw up." I say, clenching my stomach. "What did I eat? Why do I feel so sick?" I groan and Harry places his hands on my shoulders.

He laughs to himself. "That's called a hangover, baby. I'm sure you've got a massive one."

I groan again. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"I'm coming with you."

"No!" I immediately reject him and he laughs. "I don't need you to watch me, it's disgusting."

"Allison, you know that I love you, that means all of you. Even if I'm holding your hair back while you throw up."

I smile. It's not the most romantic thing he's ever said, but a romantic thought nonetheless. The grocery store is the last place I want to do this, but I doubt I can hold it in until we get home. The irony is, we're at the store to restock my dad's liquor. He'd have a heart attack if he found out I drank that much. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, everything hurts. It felt good in the moment, but this is enough to put me off alcohol for life.

Harry and I reach the liquor aisle and I cringe. There's so much of it. There's red and white, clear bottles and brown bottles. I mean, alcohol is alcohol, why make it in so many different ways. Harry stops at the drink that my dad buys and pulls one off the shelf. "Are you sure you don't want to try it first?" He smirks.

I roll my eyes. "Just put it in the fucking cart."

Harry smiles and grabs ten more of the bottles. My dad will never know they were even gone. We disposed of the evidence this morning. I laugh to myself, it sounds like we've hidden a body. As Harry places the last bottle in the cart, I feel something rising up in my throat.

Oh God.

I cover my mouth, sprinting from the cart and looking for the bathroom. Relief floods over me when I see it. I barge in, quickly admiring the mild cleanliness and opening the door of the first stall I see. My stomach leaps as the evidence of my evening makes its way into the toilet. I sit up and sigh, jumping when I see Harry is right behind me.

"Harry, what the hell? I told you I didn't want you to come." I say, more embarrassed than I could ever describe.

"And I told you I'm here for you, for everything. Didn't you think when you took off running that I would follow you?" He says offering his hand to me. "You need to support yourself, or your going to fall in next time." He laughs, pointing to the toilet, gesturing for me to rest my arms on it to hold myself up.

I look at it in disgust. "I don't want to touch it, Harry. People's asses have been on that."

"Hangover-Allison has quite a vulgar mouth. I don't think I've ever heard you swear so much." Harry laughs again, amused. He reaches over me, grabbing two long trails of toilet paper and placing them over the toilet seat. "I know this isn't the nicest venue, but unfortunately, you don't get to choose." Harry gathers my hair into one hand and I turn back to the toilet, excreting the rest of the alcohol from my system.

Harry and I wash our hands and a young woman walks out of another stall, looking at us with a shocked expression. It's just now occurring to me that this is the lady's restroom and Harry isn't supposed to be in here. I laugh at her expression as I dry my hands, walking with him out of the bathroom and to the check-out counter.

I watch Harry as he places each of the bottles on the conveyer belt. This cashier is going to think we're a pair of drunkards. The older man scans the first bottle, and then the next, and the next, his eyes growing wider with every scan. Harry grabs a pack of gum from the aisle and throws it on the conveyer belt.