Love You More

Chapter 15: Callie

I wake to the incessant sound of Pia Mia's 'Do It Again' blaring through my JBL 4 speaker. My head is throbbing, and I have no idea how Kenna does this on a regular basis. I hit the 'stop' button on my alarm clock, and squint in confusion. I set an alarm for 12:36pm? Wtf, what a random time.

Taegan left a note on our shared whiteboard in scrawled, girly handwriting that read "cheer practice at 10. Left water in the mini-fridge, Advil on top." Dang, I hit the roommate lottery.

Only then do I realize how absolutely dry and disgusting my mouth feels. I run my tongue along the roof of my mouth. Did I even brush my teeth last night? Ew. The mini fridge seems miles away, although in reality it's only a few steps. I notice a half-full Deer Park water bottle and decide immediately to settle for room temperature water than to go another second tasting last night's mistakes (and countless drinks). I pop open the cap and take a swig, expecting to be thankful for the rush of water down my throat.

Instead, I'm greeted with the sting of 11-dollar, bottom shelf alcohol. The hair on my skin rises, and prickles with goosebumps. I shoot up out of the twin bed, and my feet touch freezing cold hardwood. Gagging, I lean over the trash can and empty the contents of my stomach. When I'm finished, I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck, thank God the trashcan was lined, and chug the water Taegan left for me in the refrigerator.

Shuddering, I clean up the mess, and breathe a sigh of relief that we have conflicting practices. Men's lacrosse has our field to practice for pre-season until 3, and then we practice until 6. Three hours is actually extremely forgiving considering we are in regular season. We have an hour of lifting, an hour of conditioning and drills, and then cap off the last hour with scrimmages. Thankfully, this gives me time to recover and refuel, and I take comfort in knowing that Kenna is an expert on how to bring me back to life.

For the first time in a half hour, the chaos inside my stomach has subsided and I pick up my phone to ask Kenna to grab food. I panic internally when I see that I have 9 missed calls from Colton, 4 from Home, and 3 from Kenna. I'm also momentarily shocked to see a text from Beckett Rivers. That is, until the night's events plummet from the depths of my memory into the forefront of my brain, making me want to vomit all over again.

After the guys (who, to their credit, seemed to want to apologize) stormed into the room, Beckett grew approximately six inches taller with anger. The look on his face is forever burned into my mind. He looked back and forth between the guys and me, fighting an internal battle of whether to beat all of their asses, or stay and comfort me. He chose to stay, but the anger didn't dissipate as he shook the room when he slammed the door on them. He turned the lock, and without his piercing eyes leaving mine, picked up his phone. Within seconds, he was turned away and quietly murmuring to someone. I was so curious to hear what he was saying, but I don't even know him, so I stayed put.

When he hung up, he turned to me, and his eyes reflected that he was slightly buzzed, as was I. My body began flooding with energy, as it does when I look at Beckett. I remember wondering if all girls feel this way when they look at him. But no sooner than that thought entered my mind, there was a purposeful knock on the door and Beckett unlocked it. He revealed Kenna, Teagan and the two boys we walked into the party with - Jace and Kyle, I think their names were?

Immediately Kenna sprints to me and puts her hands on my face, genuine concern flooding her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I was taking shots in the upstairs bedroom with some loser and his friends because it was free alcohol, and I had no idea that you were by yourself because the last time I saw you, you were with Beckett and seemed to be having an intense chat and -"
I cut her off with a tight hug.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, it could have been a lot worse, he was just a drunk douchebag."
I loop my arm with hers, and face the rest of the crowd. "I think I'm ready to go home now." I say with a weak smile.
Everyone begins nodding in agreement - except Teagan.
Her brow furrows, and she pouts her full, glossy lips.
"You sure you don't want to rip some more shots? It's our first night of college!"
The entire room goes silent and Kenna shoots her daggers, until she sees Teagan wiggle her eyebrows and wink, indicating that she was clearly joking.
"Trying to lighten to mood here, people!"

We stumbled home immediately after that.

The second the memory ends, the door of my dorm swings open and Kenna barges in with a full face of makeup, her hair thrown up in a messy bun, and her black STX field hockey bag with the "STX" in glitter slung over her shoulder. Her bloodshot eyes are the only giveaway that she has even a fraction of the hangover that I do. She side eyes me, and a Chesire-Cat grin spreads across her face. I realize this smirk is because in our entire 12+ years of friendship, she's never seen me drunk, let alone hungover. However, I have seen her, and seen her often, in both the first, and latter forms.

Knowing she is going to want to debrief the night, as we have done so many times before, I take a deep breath and am about to suggest we run to Saxby's (the local coffee shop  I had seen many students studying at during my orientation in June). Before I get the words out, Kenna throws her bag down, walks back into the hallway, and produces two iced vanilla lattes, and a bag with what I presume to be a PE&C (porkroll, egg, and cheese sandwich). 

"Tell me everything, bitch." She smirks and throws the piping hot bag at me.