Nineteen

Chapter Sixty-One

"Em, we're here."

I flutter my eyes open. My face is stuck to the window of a car. I try to raise my head, but it's just not happening.

I try to speak, but some kind of noise comes from my mouth instead. I am so tired.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Clark asks as he shifts the car into park.

I shake my head no, but I really want him to. My whole body feels like jello.

"I know you better than anyone, and I know that if you really didn't want me to, you would fight me." He steps out of the car and begins to walk around the back to my side.

I can only imagine how horrible I look. I'm in an old shirt and baggy boy shorts. My hair feels disgusting. I really need a shower.

He slides his arms under my legs and back and lifts me from the car. I'm sure people think the absolute worst of me as my hungover body is being carried home on a Friday morning.

I curl into his chest and thank myself for putting these sunglasses on.

When we get to my room he lays me on the bed. I notice that, not surprising, Jade isn't here. Clark lays down beside me and rests his hand behind my head.

"Do you want to tell me why you look like hell?" he says.

I sigh but don't move. When I speak my voice is ragged and foreign. "I was very drunk."

"We all were," he says.

I shake my head no. "I was very drunk. So drunk that I woke up with Collin after a night of sex and whatever the hell else we did."

I cover my eyes with my hand so I can't see his judgement. 

I hear him let out a breath. "That's not that bad. People do that all the time."

I take off the glasses and look at him. "Not that bad? It's horrible!" I whine the last word and cover my eyes again.

"It's not. At least now it's over with without the pressure," he says.

I groan and cover my face with a pillow. He rubs my arm with his.

"Don't overthink it," he says, "but I have to go. I need to go by my place and get some books."

I groan again. I don't want him to go. 

"Will you come back later?" I ask through the pillow.

"I'll come after practice. I'll spend the night," he says as he gets to his feet.

"Okay." 

"I'll see you then. Love you, Em," he says as he opens the door.

"Love you, C."

After the door clicks closed, I'm alone with my thoughts and my very heavy eyes.

I'm woken up by knocking at the door.

"Go away," I groan even though I know they can't hear me. 

The beating gets harder. I look at my clock and I see that it's eight at night. I've been sleeping for about eight hours; clearly proof of my night.

The beating is now nonstop. I groan and rise to my feet.

My body aches so much but I slowly walk to the door anyway. I glance at myself in the mirror and I can't help but laugh. My hair is in a half bun and the sunglasses are crooked on my face.

"What?" I say when I open the door.

I'm greeted to a pair of sunglasses as well. But these glasses aren't blocking the sun like it's life or death, like mine are.

"Nice to see you too," Bailey says as he walks past me, into my room.

"You look horrible," he adds when he sits on my bed.

"Why are you here?" I groan and walk to the other bed to lay down.

"We're friends, remember?"

I huff as a response and cover myself with a blanket.

"I need your advice," he says.

"What?" I say.

"I met someone at the party last night, and I want to make sure we're completely over before I act on it," he replies.

I raise up to look at him. "Are you serious?" I ask.

"Don't act like this. You know I love you, and I'm just making sure." He gives me a hateful look as he says this.

If he only knew.

"It's over, you're free to roam." I cover my face again.

"Thank you, master," he jokes.