Thanks for Throwing Up On Me

Chapter 6: A Sober Greeting

       I woke up not to my alarm clock or the sun in my face.  I woke up to screams.  Girlish screams I must say, they wouldn't cease!  I jumped out of bed, everything about me was messy. The one thing I knew was that I smelled good from last night's shower.  Entering my livingroom, I saw the drunken man from the night before.  He was obviously sober since the coffee was all gone and since he was screaming.  This man wore a long-sleeved dress shirt and a gray sweater vest (all messed up of course) and khaki pants.  

He looked at me and said as calmly as he could, "What do you want from me?"

 "Dude, relax, I'm here to help you.  Last night,.........." I couldn't finish explaining because he approached me so fiercely.

The guy pinned me against the far wall, his breathe smelt awful, "Are you apart of some American mafia?!  I can take care of myself, thank you very so much.  Tell me where I am or so God help me..."

I was so mad at this guy!  How dare he......After all I did for him!  

"You, just....shut up," I said shakily, pointing my finger at him.  "Let me explain."

       My brown eyes looked into his hazel ones.  With anger still on his face, he pulled away, "Fine."

Plopping on my couch, he folded his hands and said, "Please, my dear, explain."

I sat on the love seat next to the couch, running a hand through my hair. 

"First of all, your an ass," I began.  He opened his mouth to protest, being taken a back, but I continued.

    "Last night, I was minding my own business when you opened a door to some pub and threw up on me!  Because I'm just that nice, I took you to my apartment on 11795 Ivy Street and tried to help you.  Now, you attack me and think I'm with some mafia in America which doesn't even exist!  And believe me, you said some things last night that you damn well should regret!"

     I felt hot and angry, but tears burnt in my eyes.  Anytime I tried to proof a point or got angry, I cried.  This never worked to my advantage.  Wiping some tears from my eyes, I looked at the guy I helped and strongly hated.  He was still in the same position as before and said awkwardly, "Well, .........that was embarrasing."

   I raised my eyebrow as to say, You think?   

 He continued, "I'm sorry, my dear.  I was kind of upset so I drank and well......you know the rest.  But I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you!  Please, let's forget what I said and move on."

      He stood up reaching out a hand, "Hello, my name's Simon  Peterson.  What's yours?  You look mightly lovely today."

   I rolled my eyes and said, "Get a shower. You look like hell."

              He took  that as a forgiveness and nodded.  

 "And by the way, my name's Summer Freeman."  Then I shut the door to my bedroom, hoping that he would clean up and leave.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                           I got dressed and ready for another day, hopefully it wouldn't be as weird as yesterday.    My hair was still damp, so naturally it curled up into little ringlets.  Being shown off by the mirror as Shirley Temple, I pulled it back into a pony tail. None of my regular clothes were clean so I put on a peach, stretchy top that clung too much and had a v-neck. I put on my usual makeup and jewelry (a necklace that my mother gave me) and headed out of my bedroom.  Lykke Li was blasting through my stereo as I got ready.  I was ready to see if Simon was gone.  

               I opened the door and walked out into the hallway.  The same time, Simon walked out of the bathroom across from my bedroom.  Being the clutz I knew him to be from this point, he tripped then fell on me, bringing both of us to the ground.  Simon only wore a white towel hanging on his waist.  He was on top of me and we came face to face.  That was when I noticed how handsome he was.  His features on his face looked like they were carved by a god!  His eyebrows were nice and shaped; his lips were pink and full.  And, well, he was half-naked, showing of his 6 pack.  

         By the look on his face, he looked somewhat amazed, "Has anyone told you that you are beyond gorgeous.

       I smirked, "Well, just a couple of times.  You gonna get off me or are we going to lay on me all day?"

   "Well," Simon thought then he laughed and got off me.  My arm was stretched out on the carpet and I felt really revealing when I wore my "sexy" shirt.  The v-neck was really too low for any guy's good.  I got that feeling when Simon's eyebrows rose.  My loose ponytail fell out, letting go of my ringlets.  But why were they dark brown?!?!?!

           I lifted myself up refusing Simon's hand because I was freaking out about my hair!  My hair was strawberry-blonde not dark brown!!!!!!

 Simon noticed my concern, "You don't remember, do you?"

                          "WHAT?!?!?!?!"