❝We were quite a cliche, weren't we?❞ he smirked but I ignored the pang it spread in my chest.
❝We were. But this is real life. We can't hang on fantasies anymore.❞
❝Then why can't I forget you?❞
Adult life wasn't as easy as Hailey expected. Her jo...
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Song: How to be lonely - Rita Ora
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Hailey
It was early morning when I dragged my feet into my own apartment. Tired out of my mind and with a headache intense at every little sound. I hate being hungover. And especially considering I was working in a few hours.
That's what I get for drinking on a week night. It was totally on me.
I had been shocked at first, and there were memory voids I was still yet to fill, like how I ended in Nate's mattress. It took me a moment to remember where I was and the more I struggled the more my head pounded.
I had left as soon as I get rid of the oppressing tiredness, the shame of last night's event almost choking me. I was glad that Nate was still asleep on the couch when I made it out the room, leaving the borrowed shirt folded on the mattress and get back into my blouse. My nice blouse I had chose to go meet Cameron.
I feel so stupid at the moment. So tricked and unease.
The mark in my wrist had taken a disgusting blueish tone and it stung lightly when you touched it. Like a physical proof of my shame.
Kyle was awake, sitting on the kitchen counter and looking as messed up as I was. He gave me a nod and I grinned, still squeezing my mind for memories of last night, trying to determine if I'd embarrassed myself or not. But I came out just as blank as before.
He offered me some pizza left overs, but I tiptoed towards the connected kitchen, excusing myself with the work excuse and he nodded, bumping fists without much of a word as a goodbye.
And I was so tired. Despites having been out cold for a few hours in a row, it felt like I hadn't properly slept at all. My lids weights tones and I felt my muscles lazily responding as I dragged myself into the apartment, attentive to any sound not to intrude. Let's not forget Shane brought his date here last night.
But instead of silence or noises that would alert me about their presence, I was greeted by the sight of smoke coming lightly out of Shane's ajar door. The scent hint me hard and I scoffed. Not again.
I marched there, not caring about interrupting anymore and get in his room to find him laying across the feet of his bed, in a large T and joggers and with a joint laced between his fingers.
"Shane."
He raised his head, startled, and smiled at me drowsily before resting back against the mattress. "Hey, sis."
"Don't give me the 'hey sis'." I stepped forward without waiting to be invited in, closing the door behind myself and moving to open his window. "You know not to smoke in a closed space."
