Catch You

3| The Coffee

Well, I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone

-Santana

Amelia

Holy fucking shit.

My head was pounding. I felt as if someone had punched my face and crushed my skull. And I also felt my intestines about to burst from the amount of alcohol I'd consumed yesterday. My eyes were closed and all of my senses were hurting bad enough to know that not opening eyes was a good idea. I turned around and buried my face in my pillow.

Then I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out. 

In that moment I forgot about the harsh light that was entering my already sensitive pupils. I also forgot the fact that I was wearing the same dress as yesterday and that my limbs were screaming at me to not make them work. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to stop myself from shouting. My eyes were red and puffy, surrounded by my smudged black mascara and eyeliner. My lips were cracked as if deprived of water.

Water.

I was fucking thirsty. My throat felt like a desert. I got out of the bathroom before I could die of the smell, and gulped down huge sips from the glass kept on the bedside table. I looked down at my now wrinkled dress, and decided it was just better to bathe right now. So I stripped, and rushed inside.

Half an hour later I walked down the stairs freshly showered, smelling of sweet vanilla and chocolate. I had decided to stop by Bridget's house before class started, so I walked inside the kitchen to grab a bite. There I found Uncle Mason reading the newspaper, his glasses perched on his nose. He looked like a warden, though fitter.

"I would ask you how you feel, but seeing you yesterday, I'm guessing not so good."

I smiled ironically, "When did I come home?"

"Two hours later than what we agreed upon. But I was prepared, so no worries. You better thank your friend for dropping you home in that condition."

"Which friend?"

"I guess he said his name was Theo." My hand froze on the fridge handle. Then the memories came rushing back. Green eyes, body like a Greek god, jaw that could cut.

Holy fucking shit. I couldn't believe I forgot about the hottest guy I'd ever seen.

I rushed upstairs. No, I didn't want to believe it was true. But I knew it was. When I slammed the door to my room open, I did see those 'fuck me' red heels. I'd broken into a store and stolen something. Technically, he did, but he did it because of me.

He could have said no. I thought to myself.

Uh, yeah he did. But you did not fucking listen.

Fucking hell, I just did something illegal. I paced around the room, putting my head in my hands, wondering how I could have done something like this even when I was drunk. And then my mind chose to remind me of my resolution, my resolution to change. But did change mean going to jail?

Absolutely not.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Bridget's number.

"God my head hurts." She groaned.