Mailboy (Wattys 2015 Winner)

6. PMS: Pissed, Messy and Sad

“I'm a mess right now, inside out. Searching for a sweet surrender, but this is not the end.” –Ed Sheeran, I’m a Mess

Zoey Willow Hunter

Where in the world was I?

A sharp pain was killing my brain, my whole body felt wrecked. I slowly opened my eyes and groaned at the sight of sunlight. I looked around and recognized the tent. The group was scattered yet squished together in such weird ways.

Lucy was sleeping with her foot in Aaron’s face. He had his head turned away from her socks and his mouth was agape even through the sleep. Diana was lying on her stomach, on Joel. Fred’s legs were across Amir’s stomach and the poor guy was twitching every time Fred moved. Amir was probably the only one who didn’t drunk among us, because of his religion and morals. James’ face was dangerously close to mine. His snores made me jump.

Carefully, I pushed his face away from mine. I barely managed to stand up and walk past my friends. I felt dizzy and exhausted. Feeling bile rise up my throat, I rushed out of the tent and puked my guts out in a plastic bag with empty alcohol bottles.

“Oh God, what have I done?” I whispered, spitting the rest of the puke of my mouth.

Getting drunk was never something I would’ve done. Most of the time, Amir and I were sober buddies at occasions like this. What happened last night? I racked my mind for an answer.

Someone poked my shoulder and gave me a water bottle. I didn’t even bother identifying them, I just rinsed the horrible taste of my mouth. Looking up, a thank you was on the tip of my tongue.

Xandra.

Vague memories came back to me; I remembered what Oliver told me. She, one of my closest friends, was officially his girlfriend.

Her blue eyes stared at me with worry and pity. “You okay, Zoey?”

“I guess, but could you check if there’s anything on my back?” I said, pointing to my back. She looked but I didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Maybe there’s blood from a knife there, do you see it?”

“Zoey, I—” Her blonde hair was pulled up into a bun on her head. She looked gorgeous most of the time, but to my eyes, right now, she had never looked uglier.

I shook my head, “Save it.” 

“He asked me! It’s not like I threw myself at him,” she shouted. I put my hand on her mouth.

“Please, please shut up.” Her eyes widened. “I’m saying this because I feel like World War 3 is going on in my head and because your excuses are pathetic.”

Oliver appeared out of nowhere, I immediately took my hand away from her. He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. She smiled at him but the momentary happiness faded at the sight of me with teary eyes. Another knife stabbed me this time, but in the heart.

“I got to get home.”

He looked at me with confusion, “Don’t you want to witness the hangovers?”

“Nah, I’m good. Plus, I’m pretty hung over myself, so yeah.”

“Want me to drive you?” He asked, giving me a small smile.

“I got her,” said a voice I’d only heard so often during the last week. I turned and stared at Nico, who looked like he had been awake for a few hours.

Oliver raised an eyebrow and his gaze hardened at the sight of Nico. “I think she’ll be better with me, man.”

“Nah, man, I said I’ve got her,” said Nico, giving him a big bitter smile. He looked down at me and I had to weigh my options fast.