Can't Stop [James Franco Fanfiction]

Ch. 5

Chapter 5

I collapsed onto my bed, face buried in my pillow. Libby stared at me and cocked her head to the side. "Where have you been?"

I mumbled into my pillow.

"Huh?"

I groaned as I slowly sat up in my bed and rested against the brick wall. "I ran into James."

She looked confused for a moment, and then her eyes widened in shock. "Wait, James as in sexy James from the plane ride? Oh my god, he's here? What happened?"

I nodded and closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. "Everything was going fine. We went to get dinner, and then out of nowhere he stormed out and left me there. God, I didn't know he was such an asshole."

Libby's jaw dropped. "Maybe he had a good reason?"

I shrugged. Who cares if he had a good reason to leave? He was rude. I don't know why I was wasting my time even thinking about him to begin with, it's not like he was relationship material. He was too old for me, too complicated, too different. It wouldn't have worked out anyways. I'm not sure he even liked me in that way -- and I'd only met him twice, so I shouldn't care so much. I literally know nothing about him.

But I cared. I banged my head back against the wall, wincing at the pain. "Let's talk about something else," I said.

Libby's face brightened as she jumped up. "I know exactly what you need!" She went down on her knees and shuffled under my bed until she resurfaced a moment later, clutching last night's bottle of vodka to her chest like a trophy. "You need to get really drunk."

I couldn't help but laugh at her. "Again? I think I'm still hungover."

She giggled. "Well, you know what they say..."

I stared blankly at her.

"...the best way to avoid a hangover is to just keep drinking!"

"What?" I laughed. "Libby, I don't think that's what anyone says... where the hell did you hear that?"

"My brother used to tell me that all the time. Trust me," she stated reassuringly as she unscrewed the cap from the bottle. "I'm getting drunk whether or not you join me. This is what college is all about."

"Right," I laughed. My mom would be so proud of me right now -- getting drunk and smoking weed, skipping my classes, hanging out with older guys. This is exactly what my parents are paying $50,000 a year for.

My phone began vibrating on my desk. Libby stared at it, wide-eyed. "I bet its James," she whispered.

I bit my lip. "I'm not answering it."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're not, then I am." She skipped over to my phone before I could grab her and held it up to her ear. "Hello, this is Cassidy's phone... no, this is Libby. Oh, hi Dave.... hmm? No, we had an orientation thing earlier. They were pretty strict about the no-talking-to-hot-actors-that-keep-you-out-until-4-am-on-the-phone rule. Sorry." She laughed.

I shook my head at her, attempting to grab the phone from her hands. She twirled around and spun just out of my reach, darting to the other side of the room.

"Nah, we're not really doing anything right now," she continued. "We were about to get drunk so that we can put an end to Cassidy's bitch of a hangover.... Yeah, I know. She didn't believe me, but I guess you're the expert...." Libby grinned cheekily at me. "Sure. Room 417..... okay, sounds good. Glad we had this chat, Dave." She hung up and handed me back my phone.

I stared at her. "Well? What did he say?"

"Nothing important. He agrees about my hangover cure. He thinks we should keep drinking," she sang, skipping back over to my desk where she had set down the vodka. "Oh, and he's coming over here in ten minutes."