Bad Decisions - Alex Turner

9. At The Door

  I woke up with a clouded sensation enveloping my brain. My head heavy and throbbing, like a weight gluing me to my pillow and refusing me the ability to forget the night before. I groaned at the morning sunlight blaring through my bedroom window and tugged my sheets up over my head. I hadn't had a hangover in months and it was very persistent in reminding me why I always chugged a bottle of water before I'd go to sleep after a night drinking. At the moment that I awoke, I could barely remember anything after my third drink, only small shreds like the smell of Alex's car and me apologising for ruining everyone's night. Then I remembered I was crying but I couldn't recall why just yet.

  I think I laid under the comforts of my duvet for about two hours, groaning and moaning at my throbbing temples and refusing to get up. That was until I felt something rose in my throat. I sprung out of my bed like a rabbit and sprinted to my bathroom, surprised that I had anything left in me to throw up. That's when I remembered that I vomited in a bush in front of everyone.

  "Shit," I sighed, slumping against the wall as I sat by the toilet. This was when all those feelings of guilt began to wash over me again and more and more fragments came back to me in waves. I recalled Alex taking me home and being told that I didn't ruin anyone's nights, Katie hugging me at some point and sitting on the curb.

  Flushing away last nights mistakes, I filled myself up a bottle of water and brought it back to my bedroom, sculling as much as I could to rehydrate myself. Upon reentering my room I spotted a black mass on the end of my bed. It was Alex's leather jacket. I must've removed it last night before I fell asleep. I picked it up and immediately, his scent wafted into my nose and brought forward the memory of him holding back my hair as I tossed up on the side of the path.

I owed him the biggest thank you.

A hiss escaped my lips as a shrill erupted somewhere in the room. I began frantically looking for the thing that was straining my ears only to realise that it was coming from my back pocket. I groaned in agony at the sound of my ringtone and pulled my phone out, squinting at the screen trying to decipher who the hell was disrupting my hangover morning and trying to contact me.

The tight knit of my eyebrows softened as I read the caller's name and placed my phone to my ear. "Hello?" I muttered, closing my eyes and climbing back onto my soft mattress.

"Holdin' up well?" that distinguishable British voice name through smug and clear.

I managed a laugh and sank my head back into my pillow, "I've been better."

I could hear Alex chuckle on the other line and changed my phone to be on speaker so I could leave it on my bedside table and bundle myself back up under my covers. He was saying something as I dragged my duvet back up to my neck but I couldn't catch it.

"Sorry?" I murmured, opening my eyes again as if that would help me hear what he was saying.

"I were just saying that you carried yerself quite well despite all things considered," Alex said lightheartedly.

I hugged out a laugh and caught a whiff of his scent exuding off his jacket. "I have your jacket," I said, "I forgot to give it back."

"Oh right," Alex said.

"You can come past whenever, I'm not getting up any time soon," I mumbled, closing my eyes once again to block out the sunlight. Thankfully the day was over cast. "How bad was I last night?"

"Not bad at all," Alex said.

"Be serious," I muttered.

Alex laughed, "you weren't. You were perfectly fine. Me friends loved ya."