The Quarterback, Outcast and Me ✔

Chapter Fourteen - The Fault In Our Drinking Habits

I woke up with an aching pain in my head. My throat was parched and every small movement had my stomach in a boiling uproar. This is what you get from drinking, I scolded myself.

The light protruding from the cracks in my curtains hurt my eyes. I wanted to turn away from it, but was afraid what that would do to my stomach. I doubted I could make it to the bathroom in time, but even the mere thought of getting up was too much.

I groaned and shut my eyes again, lying flat on my back in a tangle of sheets. I was such a lightweight. Images of last night came flooding back into my head; Caleb standing me up, Jace and Stacy, Don, the beer, Jace carrying me to bed, Jace kissing Stacy's neck. Jace and Stace, Jace and Stace.

My eyes flew open and I was forced to move as my stomach started reeling. I made it to the bathroom and flung myself at the toilet, managing just in time to lift the seat before last night's liquid content made a re-appearance.

My nose stung, eyes watery and finally, I was simply dry heaving, barely able to catch a breath. I am never drinking again, never ever!

"I thought I heard the hangover greeting card in here."

I groaned again, but didn't even have the strength to turn my head and look at him. I felt slightly better sitting in this position; the numbness I was already feeling in my legs was oddly soothing.

"Unless you want me to pee next to your face, I suggest you scoot over." It nearly had me gagging again.

"You're disgusting, Jace," I complained, but did as told. He came up next to me.

"I'm not the one with my head in the toilet." He cleared his throat and that was when I finally noticed that he was standing in only his boxers.

"I hate you," I mumbled, dragging myself across the cooling tiles, hoisting myself up against the sink. I really wished I hadn't; my hair was sticking out everywhere, mascara and eyeliner smudged all around my eyes, making me look like a raccoon or something. I noticed I was still in my party outfit. Apparently, Jace hadn't felt comfortable enough to undress me whilst I was practically unconscious.

The toilet flushed and he re-appeared next to me, washing his hands in his own sink.

"If you're silently referring as to why you're still dressed, I got to say, I like my girls conscious and responsive." In my condition, I couldn't even tell if he was joking or not. Half of me hoped that he was, whilst the other... never mind.

I managed to somewhat rinse my mouth from the vile, acid taste of bile. I gulped down several mouthfuls of water in the process, but it felt good.

"I'm going back to my deathbed," I said, staggering back towards my room. Before I had even taken two steps, a pair of hands took hold of my shoulders, guiding me gently towards my room.

"Thanks," I said, when I had finally gotten back down onto my bed, the warm covers inviting me to stay for the rest of my life.

"It's not exactly my first rodeo," Jace chuckled, tucking me in for the second time in less than twelve hours.

"I'll go make you some toast and grab you a coke." I stared up at him, questionably.

"Trust me, it's just what you need."

I sighed and watched him go back into the bathroom, my eyes raking across his toned and almost naked body. That butt. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my lady parts. That butt was off limits.

It felt like half a lifetime before my door opened, revealing fully dressed Jace, his hands full of a tray, carrying toast on a plate and a can of coke.