The next day, I wake up with a huge headache, and quickly put on Hardin's t-shirt, which is a little long on me, and run to the bathroom to throw up. Last night's mixed drinks did their number on me, and I feel relieved after throwing up.
When I return to the bedroom, Hardin's still asleep, wearing nothing but his boxers. He must have taken his clothes off after I fell asleep.
He looks comfortable, taking over his single bed, on his back with open arms. And he looks hot with his toned abs, his perfectly trimmed beard and his shaved hairstyle.
I reach for my purse and grab my phone. Then I take some gum to get this taste of puke out of my mouth.
There's a message from Peter on WhatsApp.
Peter: Were you upset with me last night?
I notice it's 12PM already and then wonder how he has my number. Did he ask Becky for it?
Kelly: upset at what exactly?
I throw my phone back into my purse, remove Hardin's t-shirt, put my own clothes back on, and leave the room. I walk across the dorm, grab my bike, and head towards my studio.
I reach the studio and throw myself on the bed and see if I have any new messages from Peter. I smile when I realize that I do.
Peter: Since you freaked out last night, I was confused.
Kelly: Sorry, it was the booze.
Peter: If you don't want me asking any more questions, I won't. I noticed you don't like it.
Kelly: Don't do that. I like talking to you.
Peter: I like talking to you too. What are you up to?
Kelly: I'm lying in bed. You?
Peter: With Hardin?
Kelly: No, I'm in my dorm.
Peter: Okay. I'm in Becky's room, she's in the shower. But I gotta get back as well, need to get studying.
Kelly: I have to study as well, but my head hurts.
I text Hardin as well, telling him I came home because I have to study, so he doesn't find it weird that I'm not there when he wakes up.
***
Peter and I spent the rest of the weekend exchanging trivial text messages about what we're doing or feeling. It's something I'm only used to doing with Júlia. I have to study the rest of the weekend because I've got a test on Monday.
So, Peter kept me up to date on any news regarding our friends. Apparently Marcus told them he's been going out with the girl he was with on the day Becky got drunk and threw up. Her name is Marcela, and she's also from Brazil.
On Monday, Peter told me he took Becky to the train station. I told Peter that because the test went so well; I want to party. Even though I have classes, the next day and it is Monday, the day when everything's closed or empty, he talked to everyone else and we agreed to go to reggae night at an alternative bar called Zolder's Café.
We reach Zolder's and there's a bunch of tables with people smoking weed and listening to live reggae. The bar's relatively small and there's no place to dance, or even to sit down because of how full it is.
"This is super different from any other bar I've ever been in," comments Martina, excitedly.
"Guys, I know I just got here, but I gotta go. I'm meeting Marcela. She just texted me. Sorry, guys," says Marcus, staring at his phone.
YOU ARE READING
Good at Games, Bad at Love (18+)
Romance"Can I give you a hug?" Is it possible to want and not want something at the same time? "Please?" he insists and I nod. He approaches me and my breathing becomes irregular, our bodies are too close. He doesn't hug me. Instead, his hands touch mine...
