193

I must’ve gone back to sleep at some point in the car ride through the city because I wake up, completely disorientated, in a very familiar bed; Sarah’s loud snoring and body next to me. I sit up, warily, as the spinning nausea and headache of the world’s worst hangover hits me, and I push down the urge to throw up.

The room is dark and quiet but that doesn’t mean much. Jake has blackout shades on all his windows, blocking out the sun whenever he wants to sleep. I scramble around under the sheets, catching the smell of him from the cushions under my head, and it instantly overwhelms with me with a mix of longing, pain, and upset.

I still don’t know how to feel. Great.

I slide out and carefully tread my way to the bedroom door, not wanting to wake Sarah or anyone else; especially when I’ve no idea what time it is. I open the door slightly and hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, followed by a sudden rush of bri