Wonderland

❅H20❅ Nothing

Chapter Twenty

Heather's POV

Nothing

 

I was just about to get ready for bed when someone knocked on my door. Isabelle, under her covers already, shot me an exasperated look. "Don't tell me it's Brayden again," she whined.

"Who else would it be then?" I replied. No one else would knock on our door at one in the morning besides Brayden. "This better be important, Brayden," I said, opening the door, "Because Isabelle and I are—Oh!" I caught Brayden before he could fall flat on his face. I wrinkled my nose when I recognized the smell of alcohol emanating from him. "Brayden!"

"I'm going to hell, aren't I?" he moaned. He sounded drunk, his words a slur.

"You definitely are," Isabelle responded, from her bed. I know she doesn't like Brayden much. She complains about him. She thinks he's inconsiderate, arrogant, and big-mouthed. While I couldn't refute her observations because some of it was true, I did know that beneath that persona Brayden was also sweet, understanding, and intelligent.

Although judging from him right now, I could tell that he was anything but intelligent. What a hypocrite: he told me he'd never touch alcohol before he turned twenty-one.

"You bitch," Brayden snarled.

"Okay, easy there, Coleman," I said, pushing him back from me. "That's no way to address a woman."

"You sure she's even a woman?" He smirked at me.

I heard Isabelle gasp and hiss, "Screw you!"

Brayden laughed and nearly fell onto the floor if it weren't for me holding onto him right now.

"Hey, you're really drunk," I said, worriedly. "Let me get you back to your r—"

Brayden immediately stopped laughing and clung onto my shoulders. "No, Heather. I don't want to go in there. I don't want to sleep alone."

"Why here, though? I'm not your girlfriend, Brayden. You should be with Berkeley."

Brayden shook his head. "I trust you more," he slurred. He looked at me pleadingly. At that moment, he looked so vulnerable. His brown hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot. His entire face was red, too, and I couldn't help but wonder how much alcohol he had in his system.

"Don't tell me he's going to be spending the night here again," Isabelle groaned, when she saw me leading Brayden over to my bed.

"I can't leave him alone like this, though," I said.

"Ugh."

"Bless your heart, Heather," Brayden murmured.

"Shut up, Coleman," I snapped. "You're a real hypocrite, you know that?"

"How?" He looked at me confusingly.

"It's not worth my time to explain. You're as drunk as a skunk right now. What the hell were you thinking?!"

Instead of answering me, Brayden gasped instead. "No way, did you just curse?"

I didn't answer him. I was too angry with him to even look at him. I really wanted to ask if I could share a bed with Isabelle, but I didn't know her that well so it would've been awkward to do so. Without a choice, I reluctantly slid into bed beside him. He pressed his body close to mine once we were both under the covers, resting his head on my chest.

He curled his fingers around my pajama top, and, to my surprise, sniffled. At first, I thought I had imagined it, but when I heard a series of sniffles after the first one, I realized that I wasn't imagining it. Brayden was crying.