All Fucked Up//Jahren ff

Chapter 21

•Joel's POV•

-the next day-

Hearing sirens and car horns, I lift my sore head up from the hard concrete ground I'd slept on, earning judgy looks from people walking past me on the sidewalk. My still slightly drunken body stands up and walks in a not-so-straight line, trying to remember why I stayed here last night, and how to get home from here.

Southport is an hour away from my house, there's no way I could walk there from here and not get lost down some streetway.

I reach around for my phone in my pocket, my goal being to call Ahren and see if he picks up. I dial his number with shaky fingers and wait for his phone to pick up.

Ring one.

Ring two.

Ring three.

Ring four.

Ring five. Voicemail.

"Hey, this is Ahren, I can't get to my phone right now, leave a message. Bye." His voice said through the phone connected to my ear.

"Fuck." I say and press the end call button. I decide to try Bel's phone.

"Hello?" Bel says on the third ring.

"H-hi Bel." I try to sound as sober as possible while talking to Bel so she won't be as mad at me.

"Joel. Hi?"

"How are you?"

"What do you want, Joel?" Bel says sassily, obviously annoyed.

"Can you come pick me up?" I say lightly, as if the tiniest bit of hurt or rejection could break my fragile bones.

"I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know?" I say, my voice getting increasingly more anger-ridden.

"Ahren's pissed at you, alright?" Bel's voice turns angry too. "He doesn't wanna see you."

"Of course he does." I scoff.

"No he doesn't. You're an asshole who didn't want to come home and be safe with him so now you walk home."

"Walk home? How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I don't know where I'm going and my phone's at..." I pull my phone from my ear. "Six percent."

"Figure it out. I'm sorry, but I can't have Ahren mad at me right now." Bel says. "Bye."

"Bel wait-"

beep. And with that, she was gone.

I didn't wanna call her again. She'd be mad at me, and I can't even handle Ahren mad at me. There has to be a way for me to make this up somehow. No matter what I try, I'm gonna get them back.

I walk down the streets, my skinny arms shivering as the cold air hits my bare skin; wearing a short sleeve shirt and skinny jeans isn't such a good idea when it's cold outside. My cold flask shakes with an amber liquid held inside of my back pocket.

My fuzzy memory of where I live comes slightly back to me, but once I realize I'm going into circles, I decide to call an Uber instead of going nowhere. I sit on the ground again until my Uber pulls up in front of me.

I pull myself into the car and hand them a few crumpled up dollars I found on my way here. "Here's my address." I hand the driver a slip of paper with my address.

"Brisbane, eh?" The woman driver asks.

"Yeah, I've made some mistakes I gotta go make up for." I rub my head and stare out the window of the back seat.