From Buitron to Styles

Chapter 40.. From one to the next

From one to the next

(Kenzie's P.O.V.)

"Kenzie!" Liam's voice echoed, he shook my body. I groaned and opened my eyes to see Liam hovering over me. I stretched out my arms and yawned.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"8:13."

"Why did you wake me up so early?"

"I told you I was picking you up in the morning. Where did he go?" Liam asked pointing to the bed.

"He left last night." I buried my head in a pillow.

"Liam?" I asked, searching his eyes.

"What?"

"How come you were upset that I brought him home?"

"Because he only wanted one thing and I don't want to see you heartbroken."

I closed my eyes and bit on my lip.

"I'm sorry." I almost whispered.

He rubbed my back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay."

He tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear.

"Lets leave Liam."

He nodded and we stood up, I opened the door and saw Zayn and Perrie eating.

"Kenzie had fun last night!" Zayn said, winking. I rolled my eyes. I ran out the door and waited for Liam by his car. Liam unlocked the doors and I climbed in.

"Liam I don't feel good." I said, closing my eyes.

"Hangover?"

I nodded.

"I wish I didn't do what I did."

I inhaled the air deeply and slowly let it all out.

"Is Jacqueline awake?" I asked.

"Yeah, Harry's with her now. But I'm taking you back to their flat for now."

"Are you staying with me? Please stay with me."

"Of course."

I smiled as I watched him. The car engine shut off and I realized we were back at the flat. When you day dream time flys. I walked into the house and fell onto the couch.

"Here take this." Liam said and handed me a glass of water and a pill. I gulped it down.

"Thank you Li."

Oh no. Here it comes, right up my throat. I had my legs rested on Liam's lap. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I hung my head over the toilet and the smelly fluid came out of my throat.

"Kenzie? Are you okay?" Liam called.

I couldn't reply. Liam ran into the bathroom and held my hair behind my head so puke wouldn't get in it. When the puke stopped pouring out of my mouth I thanked him. I rested my back to the wall and stared at the floor.

"I'll never drink again." I said shaking my head, Liam chuckled.

"Do you need anything?"

"I need something to eat and drink."

"I'm going to pick you up something, stay here."

I nodded and went upstairs to change my footies, it was a bit hot for those now. As I walked into the guest bedroom I heard the car engine roar to life, indicating he left to get me something. I couldn't be more thankful. I flipped through many outfits, but none of them seemed appealing to me. Frustrated, I just grabbed whatever was in my reach. A blue ruffly tank top that I paired with light jeans. Quickly, I got dressed and looked myself over in the body length mirror. Not really something people wear when they're feeling sick from a hangover, but whatever. Not feeling up to doing anything special with my hair, I threw it into a pony tail. My hair was quite long, reaching the end of my back but not quite near my bum. I vowed I would never go to a haircut shop again, from my experience when I was 13. My hair wasn't nearly as long as it was now, but it still had a good length. My mum didn't approve with the split ends, nor the fact that it looked unkept, being I had long, thick, wavy hair, that I really didn't feel like getting up at 5 in the morning just to straighten it. So my mum always complained of how my hair was always up in a messy bun or pony and threatened many time to chop it all off herself. I threw a big fit and just agreed to having my split ends cut off. I repeat I said just my split ends. They were only about 2 to 3 inches, so I didn't see a big deal with only getting that much taken off. She drove me to GreatClips that night, which I would like to say myself as HorribleClips. Besides the point, I waited for about half an hour just to get my spilt ends cut, when it was my turn the lady decided she wanted to wash my hair and then cut it. Following through with her choice she shampooed and conditioned my hair, I wasn't very fond of the smell of it either. Still, I followed along. When she sat me in the chair, my heart began to race. I always had this odd fear of the haircut shops. Part of the reason being I didn't want my hair cut too short, being I always had bad luck, I felt destined it would happen one day. My hair was even longer wet, so then I think it was reaching my bum. The lady took the scissors to my hair and cut furiously. As the pieces of my beloved hair fell to floor and my length began to shorten, I felt my heart ache a little, I had a strange attachment with my hair. I felt as if, when my hair was being cut off, a part of me was being taken away, which I really didn't like the feeling. When she stopped cutting my hair had ended just below my boobs by maybe 2 inches. It wasn't a bad length to have, not to short, not to long. What I hadn't thought of was how wavy and thick my hair was, and how once you blow dry it, it will become shorter. I was all happy and giddy until she said that one little word, that got me excited yet anxious at the same time. Done. She turned to face me to the mirror and to my surprise my hair had ended just above my shoulders. I could have screamed and made a big scene, but my mum would definitely be upset with me. I just nodded and climbed from her chair. I was so upset, my hair was so short and I never liked short hair, it drives me bonkers. Also because I was growing my hair extra long to donate it to Locks-Of-Love, for people with cancer who didn't have hair, they could use mine to make a wig. I measured my hair when I got home, only to find she had cut off 10 inches, just enough for me to donate. Just thinking about taking another two years to get there again really made me mad. That was the day I promised I would never go to a haircutters again.