Sprinkling Fling ✓

36.

I physically can't move.

My body is not cooperative, and my head is too having. I'm trying hard to keep nose-breathing, but large puffs of air are coming out of my mouth.

I stay like this for an hour before I move again—or attempt to move again.

Anything I do makes me feel nauseous. I sit up against the wall. That already was a huge effort.

I sit like that for five minutes before my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I slowly reach over and take my phone. I've gotten quite some new messages, mostly worried texts after I disappeared drunkenly from the party I started my night at.

The most recent text is from Del.

Hey, are you feeling okay after last night? Here if you want to talk x

I turn my phone off again. I can't handle looking at a screen for that long—I feel dizzy.

I slowly lift myself off the bed and reach for my robe before shuffling toward the bathroom. I turn the hot water on and jump in, letting myself get soaked.

The water feels so good. My muscles relax as I wash last night away. Showering always does me good when I have a hangover.

I stand like this in silence—no music on today.

"Ki, is that you?" I jump at the sound of the voice coming through the airshaft. So much for silence today.

I stay silent.

"Are you okay? I don't know if you remember, but I had to bring you home tonight. You were out of it."

I pick the skin around my nails nervously as I decide what to say to him. The silence lasts for a little longer.

In my head, I go over the events that happened last night. I think I was with Gabe for the beginning of the night until he went off with some guy and started making out with him. Is that right? My mind is so blurry.

Who was this guy? I'm not sure if it happened or if I made it up. I'm an unreliable narrator if it comes down to breaking up the details of the night. But then again, I'm pretty sure it happened.

Anyways, from that point, things started going badly. I was left alone with the alcohol and had too much of it. I started throwing up my guts in front of my ex—who is now trying to talk to me.

"I'm fine. Not feeling the best, but I'll live." I decide to tell him. "thanks for looking after me."

"Always." He says, sounding rather soft.

I turn off the shower. I don't feel awkward with Del, but it gets me sad. I miss him a lot, and it hurts not to have him.

No more words are said after that.

Del lets me leave. I appreciate that.

He is not pushing me like I thought he would at first. He doesn't push me to get back together with him—he has just given me space.

I dry myself off with my towel before I step into my sweatpants and pull on a hoodie. I leave the bathroom and discard my towel and robe in my room before I go into the kitchen to eat something.

I'm starving but afraid of throwing up again, so I need something light for my stomach. So that's why I go for the basic scrambled eggs and toast to fix my hangover. Nothing is better than scrambled eggs when feeling like absolute trash.

When it's done I sit at the counter and take small bites.

Oli comes into the kitchen at one point, but he is quiet. We look at each other. I immediately notice how he's in the same state as me. I'm not sure if he was at the same party as me, but he definitely partied.