~*~
Waking up the next morning was one of the most physically painful things I had ever had to endure. As soon as I cracked one, still swollen, eye open a whole raft of aches, pains, thumpings and swirlings assailed me. As I peeled my dried out tongue off the roof of my mouth I fervently wished I'd chosen to down lemonades last night without the vodka.
Forcing myself to open the other eye and try to assess my surroundings, I saw that, in a strong bout of déjà vu, I was lying on Adam's couch with the same duvet and pillow I'd used the morning before. I sat up gingerly and then gave a little groan of horror as I realised I was about to be sick all over Adam's couch…
"Bucket?" Came a horrifyingly chirpy voice from above and the next second a blue plastic bucket was whisked underneath my chin just in time to catch the results of my retching. Adam stood by solicitously and then handed me a bunch of paper towel and another glass of water before deftly removing the bucket, emptying it, cleaning it and bringing it back for me in case I needed to go again.
"Ooh you're a sight for sore eyes," Adam said merrily once I'd wiped at my mouth and swilled some water around in it. "You sure know how to make a guy feel bad about what he missed out on."
"Sod off," I grumbled but he just laughed and ruffled my hair, as if it needed any more messing up.
It took me several attempts but I finally managed to get myself off the couch and into the bathroom whereupon I was close to being sick again just because of the image which stared back at me from Adam's bathroom mirror. I'd forgotten all about the heavy makeup I'd been wearing the night before and now it was smudged all around my eyes and down my cheeks in black, purple and silver smears. Add to that my puffy, red eyes and pale, greasy, drawn looking skin and I looked like the sort of beast mothers tell their children will come and get them if they don't eat their vegetables.
I could see exactly what Adam had meant now. Still, if my long story last night about all that had happened between Jack and I (with some exceptions, Adam really didn't need to know all that had happened between us) didn't put him off me for life my appearance this morning certainly should do the trick.
I wetted some toilet paper and cleaned myself up the best I could although, looking down, I realised there was little I could do for my clothes. The denim skirt was rumpled and stained but I knew it could be fixed eventually with a good wash and iron, but I was very sad to realise that the camisole top was probably done for. The silk was so fragile trying to get the mysterious and disgusting looking stains out of it or attempting to iron out the massively deep wrinkles would probably destroy it anyway. It was a real shame as Simone had made me that top for my 18th birthday and it really was very lovely.
Thinking about Simone brought tears to my eyes, surprising me slightly as I felt I'd probably cried about a year's worth out last night. I realised then, staring at myself in the grimy mirror, horrified at what I'd done to myself the night before, that I had to make up with Simone and I needed to do it immediately. As wonderful as Adam had been, I needed my best girlfriend and no-one else at that moment would do.
I would love at this stage to say I suddenly got a mammoth burst of energy and ran out of the bathroom and Adam's flat all the way to Simone's without even drawing breath but the reality is that it took me about five minutes just to stagger to the bathroom door.
Adam, in yet another display of his brilliantness, agreed to give me a lift round to Simone's and so, although it must be noted that it took a great deal of time and effort on both my and Adam's behalf to get me there, it wasn't too long before I was standing apprehensively in front of her door. I checked my watch just before I knocked and, noting that it was only 7:30 in the morning, I hoped that she would not resent me coming round so early. Pushing my nervous butterflies to one side I raised my hand and knocked loudly, hoping against hope that it would be Simone, not Alex who answered the door this time.
I thought, considering the early hour, that I would have to knock quite a few times before I managed to rouse a response so I was quite taken aback when, only a couple of seconds after I'd first knocked, I heard a patter of footsteps coming towards the door before it was thrown open and Simone appeared in her floaty nightie. Before I'd even had the chance to open my mouth and begin my spiel about how sorry I was that things had got weird between us she threw herself at me and I staggered back a couple of steps as she wrapped her arms tightly around me.
"Oh thank God!" She exclaimed as I tentatively hugged her back.
"Is everything OK?" I asked stupidly after a couple of seconds where she still showed no signs of letting go of me. I was glad of course that she was accepting me so whole-heartedly but it was still a bit bizarre, us not talking for so long and then getting a reaction like that when I finally turned up at her door so early in the morning. I'd thought it would take at least an hour of talking, and apologising on my part, before we got to the hugging stage.
"We've been worried sick," Simone sniffled, pulling back and looking at me slightly sternly. "Where've you been?"
Curiouser and curiouser.
"At Adam's," I replied, nonplussed. "Why? What's going on?"
Obviously suddenly realising that we were still standing out on her porch Simone ushered me inside her house and shut the door behind us.
"Jack and Matt have been calling since about 5:30," she said breathlessly. "Matt had heard from some of his mates that you were out and about last night dressed-" She seemed to look properly at me for the first time and her nose wrinkled slightly, as well it might, at my dishevelled appearance, "well, like that and that you'd been picked up by a whole bunch of guys."
I opened my mouth to protest at this. I'd been picked up? Hell no, if anyone had been doing the picking up last night it had been me! But Simone barrelled on, obviously a little flustered by the whole thing and desperate to tell me what had happened.
"Then you disappeared and no-one knew where you'd gone. Some guy said that you'd been dragged off by this other guy and everybody has been running around trying to find you." Simone suddenly seemed to realise that she wasn't just telling this story to an innocent bystander and her eyes narrowed slightly. "What were you doing going on a pub crawl without letting any of us know where you were? You know what this uni is like, you must have known people would tell Matt about it and that he'd be worried. And why didn't you answer your phone? We kept calling you but it went straight to voicemail."
I bit my lip guiltily; I honestly hadn't even considered that my crazy actions the night before would have eventually made their way back to Matt, although I should have. Considering how far removed it is from my usual behaviour and everyone knowing how protective Matt and Jack are of me, it was bleeding obvious, now it had been pointed out to me, that it would be all around uni within minutes of me setting out dressed as I was.
Item number 23,872 on my 'to apologise for' list: scaring the wits out of everyone. Oh well, might as well get a start on it.
"I'm so sorry," boy was I getting good at saying that, "I didn't think." A sentence which pretty much summed up the last couple of months for me. "My mobile was off and it just didn't occur to me, although I know it should've, that you would hear about what I'd been up to and be worried about me."
"Well, as long as you're alright," Simone said anxiously, leading me over to the couch and sinking down upon it with me, her hands tightly clasping mine. She seemed really upset and I found myself thinking that her uneasy manner was a bit unnecessary considering that I was right in front of her and obviously in one piece.
The real reason for her concern was made blindingly obvious less than a second after I'd dismissed those thoughts as uncharitable to my friend, however, as the door to Simone's bedroom opened and Micky, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts sauntered out.
He didn't see me at first as he was looking down at the mobile in his hand saying, "Sam's just texted and said that they asked Brad and he hasn't seen her either. He wants me to ask you again whether you have any idea who she could be wi
th."
He looked up then and his expression when he saw both Simone and me sitting struck dumb on the couch was beyond priceless. If I hadn't been experiencing what felt like a mini stroke at the time I'm sure I would have found it a lot more amusing than I did.
The air was charged with electric emotion as I gaped dumbfounded, my gaze switching from Simone to Micky, from Micky to Simone as what I was seeing and what I knew about Micky and Simone tried to find some common ground. Finally some clogs in my brain, still fuzzed from too much emotion and alcohol and too little sleep, began to slowly turn and the realisation of what had been going on hit me like a tonne of bricks.
"Oh!" I said slowly, and then, "Oh, I've been so stupid haven't I?"
And, while Simone gripped my hands still more tightly and begged me with those wide, grey eyes to understand, Micky assumed his usual arrogant air right before my eyes, like a cloak settling around his shoulders.
"Well," he smirked, coming over and resting his hands lightly but possessively on Simone's shoulders, "it's not like it's the first time, is it?"
So Much to Learn Page 51