August & Colin | WRU series | book 1
We take risks. We make mistakes. We lie. We love. We hurt. We lose total control.
I took a risk. I paid the price.
I made a mistake. I felt the guilt.
I lied. I lie.
I loved. I try not to.
I hurt. I still do.
...
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I'm walking on sunshine, wooah. I'm walking on sunshine, wooah. I'm walking on sun-
Each cheerful sound is a knife being stabbed through my head. Heat is covering my face as strays of sunlight shine through the window. Where I would normally smile towards the sun, enjoying the warmth embracing my body, I now groan as the light is seemingly overheating my whole existence.
And don't it feel good!
It feels fucking terrible.
I cover my eyes with my forearm to save myself from the pain of the bright sun but my stomach twists in disapproval anyway.
I shouldn't have accepted Brooke's cocktails. I shouldn't have agreed to the shots. I shouldn't have agreed to go to the party in the first place, because that just led to a lot of other things I shouldn't have done.
And don't it feel good!
Fucking Walking on Sunshine. If this hangover wasn't draining me from every ounce of energy, I would be ready to throw something against the wall. Lucie's phone to be precise.
Last night, when we came home after calling an uber, I was ready to shuffle to my room in a straight, perhaps not so straight, line. However before I even reached my door, I heard Lucie blurt an 'I asked a guy for his number'. I had spun around, lost my balance a bit but regained it fairly quickly and met with a giddy Lucie staring down at her phone. In my moment of excitement, I guided her to her room, dragged her onto the bed, and forced her to disclose everything about the guy who was apparently named Logan.
The whole story might be a bit blurry but I remember the most significant events, I think. Perhaps she didn't even tell the whole story because somewhere in the middle of her sentence sleep had snagged her away from our conversation.
For a moment, I had debated getting up and going to my own room but my body was feeling the effects of alcohol too. That's why I decided to stay in her bed. I now realize that was one of the many mistakes I made last night.
"Luus?" Every letter feels like a piece of sandpaper polishing my throat. I start patting the surface around me until I find a hillock in the landscape of her bed. Blindly, I shake what I assume is her shoulder as I groan her name again over the sound of her alarm clock.
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah!
If I ever become president, I'm going to make playing cheerful music in the morning illegal.
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah!
It's a crime to be this happy.
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah!
I lift my head from the bed to inspect how much energy I would need to crawl to her phone on her bedside table but the second I do, I immediately regret it. Blood drains from my face. A wave of sweat washes over me. My stomach twists and turns itself into oblivion and pressure builds itself in the back of my throat.
