11: DID HE HAVE A MENTAL DISORDER?

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If the stampede going on in my head is anything close to the one in Lion King, there is no way Mufasa could have survived.

I groan as I sit up slowly, keeping my eyes shut because I'm not ready to be blinded by freaking daylight.

The instant I'm standing upright my stomach summersaults and I fly into the bathroom blindly before throwing up in to the toilet bowl.

I think.

Why did I even do this to myself?

After flushing that absolute nightmare away. I quickly shed my clothes and stumble into the shower, letting the warm water soothe my nerves and ease the headache a little.

Wrapped in fluffy towels, one around my body and the other around my hair, I trudge back into the room and slowly change into a pair of black shorts and a white tank top. I let my hair fall down my back, damp, not bothering to dry it. I notice Cole's hoodie on the hanger and I grab it and shrug it on, wrapping it around me. A sad sigh escapes my lips. I wish he'd just hurry up and forgive me already.

I wince when a throbbing reminds me of my headache so I head downstairs to find pain killers.

I stop half way down the stairs when I smell bacon and I frown. Did Marie stay? Speaking of which, how did I even get home?

I enter the kitchen and stop in my tracks, "Cole?"

Said boy turns around and smiles at me, "hey, you're up"

I nod, in a daze, "yeah I am. W-what are you doing here?"

He gestures to the kitchen, "well I'm making breakfast" he smirks.

I shake my head but then stop when the throbbing becomes worse.

Cole notices and pushes a glass of water and aspirin towards me.

I smile gratefully and take the medication before turning back to him.

"I meant what are you doing here, like in my house" I ask him, genuinely curious.

"I'm guessing you don't remember much from last night, but you got drunk so I brought you home" Cole shrugs, serving the bacon into two plates.

"But aren't you mad at me?" I can't help but blurt out.

He runs his hands through his hair, "not anymore, we kind of made up"

I walk forward and take a seat, "really?" I ask with a smile, I didn't think we'd be cool so quick.

He returns the smile, "really. You're hard to refuse when you're all drunk and stupid"

I groan, as he chuckles and places a cup of coffee before me. I shake my head, "oh, no thank you, I don't drink coffee"

He raises an eyebrow, "seriously? What are you? Five?"

I stick my tongue out at him cause I'm mature like that.

"Coffee irritates my system, and I'll be eighteen in February mister."

"February what?" he asks as he starts making eggs.

"fourteen" I reply.

He glances at me over his shoulder, "your birthday is on Valentine's day? That's ironic"

I frown, "why?"

He shakes his head, concentrating on the eggs, "never mind"

I frown, how is my birthday being on the day of love ironic?

Instead of pestering him, I sit silently and watch as he finishes up the eggs and serve them along side the bacon.

He takes my rejected cup of coffee for himself and pours me orange juice from the fridge.

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