Sinister [Jason McCann]

Fourty-One

Lea’s POV --

 

I’ll never understand how people find an undeniable enjoyment for getting wasted. I’ll also never understand their methods for treating the morning after as though it were a piece of cake. The last time I got drunk, I was lucky enough to have someone get me through the horrid stages of a hangover. Even before the hangover occurred, Jason got me through a moment that I’ll never forget--possibly because I consider it one of my most embarrassing moments. Puking in someone else’s house, whether you make it to the bathroom or not, holds no form of attraction whatsoever.

 

Looking at the bright side of things, I was lying in my soft bed with my blankets warm to the touch. The room is remotely silent, along with the rest of the house. Sitting up required a lot of the strength I would need time regaining, but I manage to pull myself upwards and bear with the ongoing pound in my head. I strained, pressing the palm of my hands deep into my temple, formulating small circles to somehow massage the pain away.

 

If this is what tags along with having a good time, I think I’ll stick to being sober.

 

Tossing my bedsheets away from myself, I gradually bring my feet to the ground and wait patiently for balance to settle into my core. Keeping my eyes shut made moving around easier; until I can at least withstand the amount of pounding I felt in my head, I’d be maneuvering throughout this house blindly. Opening the door to my room, my ears come to find that the house wasn’t as silent as I perceived it to be. A great portion of the noise derived from the kitchen where the sound of water is most recognizable and a low humming as well.

 

Perhaps it was just Sandrine fetching herself some breakfast. Not dwelling on the subject, I lead myself towards the bathroom and brush my teeth followed by taking a well deserved shower moments after. The lord only knows how much I needed, especially with the amount of make-up I still had smothered all over my face. My bedsheets would need a deep cleaning to remove the stains I must’ve left behind. For the full fifteen minutes of my shower, my headache subsided and I held no dizziness all at once. Stopping the water merely revived the headache but thankfully I no longer needed to get around with my eyes shut like a lunatic. After putting on the first thing I see folded neatly in my dressers, I comb the knots out of my hair and then make my way down the stairs. A sweet smell of waffles gave my body a sensation of goosebumps, along with the unexpected growl from my stomach.

 

I peer into the kitchen and discover that it’s merely Lana with her back facing my direction. Looking from the kitchen to the living room, I still spot no sign of Sandrine and suspect that she must’ve went home last night.

 

Now that last night could be a topic, what exactly happened? Most of it was a blur to me, I only recall taking shots and drinking other substances I should’ve steered clear from. I recall meeting someone but I can’t even decipher whether I met a boy or a girl and if I was smart enough to gather their number, or vice versa, before leaving. Other than that, my mind was a complete whirlwind of things I’ll never hold the opportunity to reminisce upon. I suppose it’s only for the best; maybe I wouldn’t want to reminisce on certain things anyway.

 

“Look who finally decided to wake up.” Lana’s voice catches me completely off guard.

 

I step into the kitchen, smiling at her innocently while her eyes sent daggers across the room. Narrowing my eyes, I shift my facial expression to something more bleak as I take a seat. She doesn’t say anything for a while, but she does suck on her teeth in disappointment while grabbing for a plate, piled with waffles towering towards the ceiling, which she sets in the dead center of the kitchen table. With my fork and knife already prepared on either side of my plate, I begin choosing the many waffles I would be devouring within the following minutes.