Summer Sanders is going through it. The pressures of school are mounting, and her home life is completely falling apart. Feeling bored and lonely on a Saturday night, she decides to get buzzed and surprise her hookup buddy with her best lingerie. Th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DEATH. IT'S THE only word that can describe how I'm feeling right now. Slow, aching, death.I don't want to reopen my eyes, especially after my last attempt, but my discomfort soon overpowers everything else. I feel sticky and there's this stench, like rotting eggs maybe?
I shriek in horror, opening my eyelids and twisting my head, to see the physical reminder of my sickness.
Everything from last night comes back to me in a flash. The disgust hits first, followed by cringe-worthy humiliation that almost brings on another surge of vomit.
Keep it in, Summer. You've caused enough damage as is.
My scalp pounds so heavily that it's formed its own excruciating rhythm. I look down to the right side of my body. From the arm of my coat, to my thigh, everything is covered in throw up.
I'm still trying to process what came over me last night, and how it led me to the position I'm in right now. What I do know for certain is I will never allow this to happen again.
Just as I reach for my phone, I hear the familiar rattle of the door I heard last night before—crap! Carter.
I could've woken myself up earlier and bolted when I had a chance. Now I'm forced to interact with him, forced to meet his eyes, and forced to once again see that judgmental glare.
Before he can enter, I run for the door across the room, relieved I correctly guessed it was the bathroom.
I lean against the door, hearing faint movement. "Fucking hell." He curses, most likely after seeing the state of his bed.
I stand frozen, my heart beating and shame chilling me to silence. What am I doing? I need to leave, I need to clean myself up. If only there was a way I could do it without alerting him to my presence.
The ideal situation would be to hide out here until he leaves his room again, so I can run for the hills, but that dream is shattered when he begins to twist the bathroom door to gain access.
Even though I press myself against the door, hoping he doesn't knock it down, I know there's no more hiding.
"Hey, sorry I'm just using the bathroom real quick. If you don't mind." I yell across the wall.
He's silent for a few seconds before he responds. "Oh, didn't realize you'd still be here." The disappointment in his voice is unsurprising.
In fact, I expect a bigger reaction. He should blow up at me. Demand I leave. Insist I replace his entire bed. I wouldn't fault him, it's what any sane person would do in this predicament. He desperately wanted me to leave last night, anyways. I expect him to keep that same energy.
"No, um...it's cool, that's fine. Actually give me a second." He fumbles, like he's trying to figure out his own emotions and grasp the right words.
I hear a knock after a few more seconds. "Are you decent?" He asks.
