The Boy Band Who Adopted Me!

Chapter 40 - Valentine

"Alex... hello?"

I woke up to the feeling of someone shaking my shoulder. Ugh... I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Stop shaking me," I mumbled. My words were coming out as slurred as my thoughts. Where am I?

"Alex?"

I opened my eyes and turned towards the voice, even though it made my head lurch. My vision slowly adjusted and I realized it was Mason.

He was sitting up... in bed? I looked down, and then jolted myself upright. I was laying on top of a comforter in a room I wasn't familiar with, and a throw blanket was draped over my body. Oh, God, what happened?

"You were freaking out." Mason was staring at me as if he'd just seen me have a seizure. He looked disheveled as well... shirtless, with his red hair hanging stringy over one eye. He was illuminated by a window behind him. His chest and arms were covered in tattoos of different styles - my eyes locked to one. A bluebird. It was flying toward his left shoulder. The bluebird seemed familiar, even though I didn't remember seeing it, and suddenly I was shocked into realization. The memory of what happened came flooding back to me.

I brought my hands to my face and squeezed, trying to wring out the reality of what I'd done. "Oh, my God." I attempted to climb out of bed, and unsteadily gripped the side of the mattress as I nearly fell.

"Jesus, Alex, just wait a second. Are you okay?" I heard him shift on the bed.

"No-- Yes, I'm fine. I gotta go." I looked down at my body and saw that I was wearing my pajamas, just a t-shirt and shorts, with a big flannel on. I looked back up at Mason, and he was climbing out of bed to come around to my side. He walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. With both of us barefoot, he seemed much taller than usual, and I felt little and vulnerable.

"You're hungover as fuck. You're gonna puke if you move too fast."

"I'm gonna puke anyway," I said, moving myself out from under his hand and going for my boots, which I spotted on a rug near the door. I was in Mason's dorm room. His roommate's bed was empty of a person, but covered in clothes, and their books were scattered around the floor. I almost tripped, but I made it and started to put my shoes on.

"Alex, stop and talk to me." His voice was incredibly stern. I looked up and met his eyes. A wave of realization passed over his face, and his eyes shifted to my body. "We didn't do anything crazy."

I surveyed him nauseously as I scrambled for my backpack. He seemed apologetic, nervous. I couldn't even verify what he was saying, because I could only remember bits and pieces of the last 12 hours. I had been super, super drunk-- that much I could be sure of because my stomach was turning at everything.

"That's fine, Mason. I just gotta go. I'll be careful." I got up and reached for the door handle.

"Alex--"

I was gone. I dashed through the boys' dorm and skipped once into an empty bathroom to avoid being seen. I chose to go out the back door and was lucky to find that nobody was smoking behind the building. As soon as I got down the steps, stomach sloshing, I lurched forward against the fence and vomited against it. Bile splattered on my shoes. I wiped my mouth with the flannel sleeve - oh, shit, this is Mason's. I cringed and hightailed it back to my dorm, shielding my face from the sun.

--

"Damn, girl! Just let me win once." Mason threw down his playing cards onto the bed and fell backward into the pillows.

I laughed and did a little dance. "Woohoo! Alex Breck takes it all!" I reached forward into the crook of Mason's crossed legs and pulled out a bottle of honey Jack Daniels, which was half-empty. Mason eyed me, entertained. His head lolled on his shoulders as if he was having trouble holding it up.