Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

89. Hungover

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My head...

Those two little words being my very first thoughts of the morning purely because I am in such pain that my brain won't allow me to think of anything else in this hung-over state. Until I check my phone.

28 missed calls.

16 new messages.

I scroll through the notifications, mostly a blur of Harry apologizing and telling me he was outside my house asking me to let him up, but I can see I've received a message from Luke.

"Are you okay?"

I don't reply. I'm not okay, and somehow I feel that messaging him back would only complicate things further than what they already need to be.

How can I possibly be okay?

When looking through my other messages my eyes glance upon the time, and I have to look again to believe how late it actually is.

12:43pm.

What the fuck? How did I manage to sleep in so late?

Almost like a not so subtle reminder, my eyes fall upon the wine and box of sleeping pills and it all suddenly comes back to me.

Well.

My mobile phone rings and I almost ignore it before I see it's the store. Scarlett is scheduled to work today. I take a deep breath before answering.

"Hello?" I answer quite groggily, clearly having just woken up.

"Hey Ava, I know it's your day off, but can you please come down here as soon as you can? I'm down here on my own."

Surprised to hear Casey's voice instead of Scarlett's I take a moment to respond.

"Sure, I'll come down as soon as I can. I'm warning you though, I look like shit."

"That's fine, thanks so much, I'll see you when you get in."

I am halfway through asking why she is working instead of Scarlett but she has hung up before I even get the chance to.

Hmm, it must be quite busy there.

Throwing on a pair of black pants and black and white striped long sleeve thin jumper, I head outside to hail a cab.

Thank God for oversized sunglasses on the days you both look and feel like shit.

I ask for the taxi driver to stop at a local Starbucks in the area. I overlook the fact that it sells terrible coffee as my standards are completely lowered in my tired state and desperate need for caffeine.

Walking into the store I can see that a lot of the rush is over, and Casey is cleaning up the last of it.

"I'm sorry," she says, hearing me come in without looking up, "It really was much busier earlier on."