CHAPTER FOUR

I wake up the next day with a hell of a hangover. Ouch! I slowly sit up and realize that I'm in my bed in my room, but I can't recall coming in last night. Alessia wasn't kidding when she said we were going to have fun. I've never been so drunk in my entire life as I was yesterday, and I've never had as much fun either.

Now, I start to reconsider my choices because this hangover is brutal, and there's no denying that fact. I feel a wave of nausea hit me, and I rush into the bathroom to throw up. Once I'm done, I rinse my teeth and wash my face.

I zombie-walk into the living area to find that Clara has brewed coffee and is already making breakfast. When the smell hits my nose, I suppress another wave of nausea.

“God, I feel horrible,” I croak out. Water, I need water now.

"Here, drink plenty of water and take Advil; you should feel slightly better after," Clara says, handing me water and some pills. Bless you, Clara.

“After taking those, you can help yourself to some coffee. I heard it helps too, as I finish off this breakfast,” she suggests.

“You are such a good person, Clara. How can I ever repay you for your kindness?” I reply dramatically, earning a chuckle from her.

“So, you finally went to the club for the first time! I'm a bit hurt we didn't go together; I need every detail, girl,” she says, clapping her hands for extra effects.

Even though I feel like I'm dying, I still tell her everything I remember. She almost chokes when I mention how small Alessia is and how fiery she was last night.

“Well, that for sure is a memorable first time. That would also explain why she brought you back home early this morning. You're not exaggerating; she looks like a child,” Clara remarks.

"Uh-huh, the funny thing is I don't remember giving out our address to her. I pretty much blacked out. Now, who's the child, Lucia?"

"Of course, you don't remember; you were drunk out of your mind yesterday. I'm so glad it wasn't some dangerous person you gave it to," Clara teases. I giggle but stop when I feel another wave of nausea.

I groan, “I am never drinking again, ever.”

"That's what they all say but never actually stick to because, come on, alcohol is amazing," Clara says as she serves me a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon.

***

"Gggrhhhhh……………"

"No, I don't want it to be morning already," I croak into my pillow. I can't believe it's Monday morning already. I could swear it was Friday like three minutes ago. I hate Mondays so much. I know it sounds cliché, but I do. I make my way to the bathroom to get ready for my 8 am class. In case you didn't figure, I'm a third-year student of international relations, and I can't wait to be done. When I told my dad what I wanted to major in, he was so happy and even cried a bit because that's what my mum studied too. He told me that I was going to go places, and I was excited to conquer this world. But sometimes, I wish I could be a couch potato.

I get to school in time for my first class and somehow manage to stay sane until the end of it. When the two hours are up, I couldn’t be more glad to leave, but I'm stopped short when I hear my name.

“Lucia? Is that you?" I hear a very familiar voice say. When I locate it, I find out it's Alessia. No way!

"Alessia? What are you doing here?" I ask excitedly. Surely, she's not in this class, right? There's no way I could have missed her for three whole years. I'm not that self-absorbed.

“I should be asking you; this is my class.” Wait, so Alessia is not a child? I mean, I wasn’t expecting her to be 16 or 17 years old, but her being a third-year college student is crazy.

“No way! How did I miss you for three years?” I ask, shocked to my bones for obvious reasons, though she can’t know that.

“I don’t know, but it’s good that we are speaking now. Where are you headed?” She asks, smiling so hard. Heaven help me so I don’t pinch her cheeks; she's too cute.

"I was thinking the cafeteria since I didn't eat breakfast before coming out." On cue, my stomach growls.

“Cafeteria food sucks; how about we go get something from outside the school?” she suggests.

"I don't know; my roommate and I were supposed to eat there together. She got to class earlier and was able to find a seat in front, so by default, she has gone to the café to save us a good spot," I say apologetically.

"That's fine. I'm glad we are in the same class; we would see each other often, right?" She asks, hopefully.

"Sure, we would. See you." With that, I head to the cafeteria.

"Look who decided to grace me with her presence," Clara says as I sit, stealing fries from her plate.

“Hey, don’t be like that, Chica. I met up with Alessia; that’s why I am late.”

“Which Alessia?” She asks, swatting my hand when I try stealing more fries from her plate.

“The Alessia. Can you believe she's been in our class for three WHOLE years, and I've never seen her before?”

“No, I can’t because I haven’t seen her either, and let me tell you I am not that self-absorbed.”

“Of course, you're not. Anyways, where is my food?”

“Do I look like your mama? Girl, go get your food yourself.” Clara says, pushing me off, and I stick my tongue at her. Real mature, I know.