Olivia (h.s)

ten

O.

My hand clutches the blanket over me, slowly peeling it off my body. I don't want to move, but I know I have to get up. My eyes are heavy, my body is sore, and my head is pounding.

As I get accustomed to waking up, I open my eyes and they widen when I realize I'm not in my room. But I know exactly whose room I'm in.

I turn to see the other side of the bed untouched, then I look down. My clothes from last night are still on my body and a wave of relief flows through me. At least I know I didn't screw up that much last night.

Memories of last night start to return and I feel my head fall into my heads, recalling the fact that Harry witnessed me toss my cookies. I felt like shit after the drink I had, and I've never felt like that before. So maybe throwing up wasn't such a bad thing.

But still; Harry seeing me like that was not what I wanted. Especially with the massive crush I have on him. He does not need to see me in that state ever again. I just knew he'd answer, and he came to my rescue.

That stands out to me.

I turn my head, looking to see Harry sleeping peacefully on his couch. His arm lays above his head and he looks so comfortable. I take a deep breath and look to see a pen and paper on his desk. My body moves towards it and I write a note, thanking him for last night. I set it on his bed and grab my shoes, putting them on and walking out of his room.

Somehow, I easily manage not to be seen by any of his housemates and I walk down the street to my apartment. It's early enough where there aren't many people out on the streets, but I still feel like shit knowing I look horrible. I'm doing the so-called 'walk of shame', but it's not because I sleep with a guy. It's because I puked my guts and my crush didn't want me home alone.

I'd say that was an awesome excuse for a walk of shame; in a weird, twisted way at least.

I make it home, taking a shower and brushing my teeth. My body lays in bed after I take some aspirin and I just scroll through things on my phone for a while.

"Darling," Lottie says, walking straight through the door and shutting it after. "I may have made the best mistake of my life."

I sit up, smiling at her as she lays her body on her bed. She, too, is in her clothes from last night, but her attitude is much different than mine.

"What did you do? And do I want to know?" I say, resting my head back on my pillow.

"I fucked up," she says, "but I don't know if it will be a good or a bad thing because of what happened this morning. I'm confused, but hell was it good."

Her sex life is all over the place, but she has never come home like this before. It's different, but I'm happy to see her.

"Who?" I ask, and she sighs. I'm tempted to ask if it was one of the frat boys, but I choose not too.

"It was, um, after you disappeared," she says, and I nod. "This guy texted me, asking to come to his house. And, well, first off, I passed your boy running down the street. Looked worried, by the way."

"That's why I disappeared. He came and picked me up because I got drugged," I tell her, and she gasps.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, just finish your story," I tell her, and she takes a deep breath.

"Well, it was a football house. And I was talking to Lance and he was just asking about what was up with everything, catching up, and I felt someone looking at me. When I looked over at who it was, it was, um," she says, running her fingers through her hair.

"Spit it out already," I say, throwing a pillow at her.

"Fine! It was James Harris," she says, and I'm the one now gasping. Her hands cover her face, but when she pulls them off, her lips reveal a smile.

"I just, O, I walked over to him because his lips were in a smirk and I wanted to know what he wanted. He was just sitting in a kitchen chair, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me between his legs, and looked up at me. It was then I knew I was fucked because I did not realize just how hot this guy actually is. He has these perfect white teeth and they kept biting his lower lip," she says, and I find myself intrigued by her fascination with him. He's not a first choice I would pick for her, but I'm happy she's happy.

"O, he kept me up all night and just made out with me this morning. We just talked and laid in bed, and I don't know what he normally does, but that didn't seem normal," she says, sitting up. Her giddy behavior is cute; I'm excited for her.

"Perhaps you're the one who's taming the beast," I smile at her, her cheeks flushing.

"Boys are weird," she says, standing up. There's a knock on the door and I stand up. She goes off into the bathroom and I open the door, looking up and meeting Harry's green eyes.

"I was worried about you," he tells me, my lips curving into a smile. A blush creeps up on my cheeks as well and I reach for his hand, taking it in mine.

"I needed to shower. Last night was bad," I recall, and I watch him lean his arm on the doorframe. He looks at me and I can tell he's not bothered by what happened; he's genuinely concerned.

"The thought of what you went through did not make me happy last night," he tells me, and I just nod. I'm disappointed in myself for not meeting up with him. I knew going to the TKE party was not a good idea.

Harry tugs my hand and pulls me out of my thoughts. I'm pulled into his body and I wrap my arms around him, his strong arms circling my body.

"I'm just glad I got there when I did," he whispers, lifting his hand to the back of my head. I close my eyes and relish this feeling; comfort would be an understatement.

I lift my head and look up at him, his lips forming a smile as he looks down at me.

"I'm glad you were there too," I tell him and I set my head back on his shoulder, happy to be in his arms.