Life of Max ✔️

Seventeen

MAX

I pick myself up from the floor of my dorm room, and wipe the saliva away from my cheek.

My head hurts so bad I kind of want to throw up, and I feel sick. I probably overdid it last night, and I don't really remember anything after I talked to Hannah, but I wouldn't change a thing. It feels oddly amazing to have been this hammered again.

As I look myself over, I see that I'm covered in hickeys, and I'm naked. I turn my head as I hear someone snoring, and look up to Harry's bed, but it's empty. Then I look to my bed, and see a few strands of blonde hair hanging over the edge of the mattress.

Fuck.

Did I have too much fun last night? I mean, I'm not complaining, per se..

Wait, blonde hair? How fucking stupid am I? Haley has hair as black as mine, and Ives is the only blonde I'd even consider, but she'd never do that to Dean. Fucking shit. I've done something really stupid, haven't I?

I get up, and make my way to the en suite. I don't bother closing the door. It's easier to get her to leave if she thinks I'm gross. I heard some girls whispering that I'm the best fuck on campus, but apparently there's no way in hell I'm anywhere near boyfriend material. That's a direct quote from one of the girls in my ethics class, by the way.

I grin as I hear the girl in my bed shuffle and put the pillow over her head when my pee hits the water in the toilet. Then I hear a muffled groan, and I smile triumphantly. I wash my hands quickly, while the toilet is flushing, so she might think I didn't wash, and then I find a new pair of boxers from my underwear drawer.

I go back into the bathroom to use some mouthwash, and I look into the mirror.

"What the fuck?!" I yell out loud when I see black ink covering my body once again, in places I clearly didn't see when I saw the hickeys.. Or maybe I thought they were all hickeys?

Tiny hearts are drawn across my lower abdomen, over my abs, and as I turn to the side, the hears continue across my hips, and towards my back. I turn my head a little more, to see some words on my lower back, just above my boxers, like a fucking tramp-stamp.

Hannah. With another fucking heart. How the hell did I let her do that?

I step out of the small room and throw the bottle of mouthwash at the wall above my bed. It lands on top of the girl, and I feel like I want to growl.

"Again?! You fucking maniac!" I scream at her, and pull the covers off of her naked body.

Now I'm complaining.

Girls are fucking crazy. Especially this one!

"Calm down, Max," she huffs, and pulls the covers back on top of her. "You weren't complaining last night."

Her smug smirk only fuels my anger, and I narrow my eyes at her, and point accusingly at her.

"I was drunk out of my mind, Hannah. I don't remember anything after I yelled at you," I say, and I'm not afraid to admit it.

She rolls her eyes at me, and sits up in my bed.

"Are you gonna come back to bed, or are you just gonna yell at me all morning?"

"Back to bed? Are you joking? I've been sleeping on the floor, you bitch," I say, and point towards the pool of drool where my face laid for hours, probably. "It's my room, and I'm kicking you out."

"Everyone's gonna know I'm your first two-timer, anyway, so I guess I can just leave already," she says, as if I didn't just tell her to leave.

She pretends like it's her choice to leave, and it makes me ball my hands into fists. I fucking hate her. I hate her. I hate her. I. Hate. Her.