Status: Complete
Past Lives
3
I was usually pretty good at avoiding hangovers.
Not this one.
I woke up feeling like my head was attached to Grand Central Station. The pounding had to be worse than a freight train. I tried to open my eyes, but the light blinded me. It was like I was being hit with every hangover I'd ever avoided all at once. I just wanted to pass out to avoid it all.
What the hell had I drank the night before?
I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. Why had I been drinking in the first place? I sat up slowly and gingerly moved the pillow blocking the light from my eyes. I saw the BC hockey jersey I was wearing and it all came flooding back like Niagara Falls.
Gionta.
That prick had been wrapped up with his latest puck bunny and I had run away. I had no idea how many shots I had consumed or of what, I just knew it had been a lot. It had to be to effect me like this. I sighed. This sucked.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a hot mess. My hair was everywhere, falling out of the ponytail I had it in the night before. I could only imagine how long Ads had been holding my hair out of the toilet. I had dark circles under my eyes and my mascara was smeared so badly it looked like I'd been in a bar fight.
It was after a hockey game and I was drunk...am I sure this is makeup? I rubbed my eyes to be sure. The black cleared away. Good. No fight for me last night.
I walked over and picked up my cell phone. I had been saving money for a while for it and it was my baby. I had a voicemail and two texts.
Two texts? That was new.
I checked them first. One was from Rob.
Just wanted to make sure you were ok.
I'd call him later. The other was from-
What the hell?
It was Gionta. I glared at my phone. Why did it let him text me? I was going to blame my phone for everything. Opening the text, I read, What's going on? Give me a call.
I could only imagine what the voicemail was. I didn't check the missed call. Why ruin the surprise? As soon as the voice on the other end spoke, all I could think was, Perfect. Of course.
Jamie, it's Brian. What's going on? What was that about at the bar? I know you were drunk, but damn. Call me.
The message ended and I glared at my phone. I knew that he would eventually get a hold of me. I sighed and went out to the hallway, my head still pounding. I heard his phone ringing and I thought that was weird. Why could I hear his phone?
"I was hoping you'd call." I looked up and saw Brian standing in the hall. He held up his phone and hung it up before walking over and sitting next to me. I sighed.
"What do you want?"
Brian looked at me. "Listen. I know I'm an idiot-"
"At least you realize it."
"Let me finish." He cleared his throat. "I know I'm an idiot, but listen. I like you. I really do. Alright? I just don't know how to show it."
I just looked at him. "And?"
"And? And what?" He looked confused.
"What are you going to do about it?" I wasn't playing games. I was over this stupid drama. I just wanted to sleep off my hangover.
Brian looked at me for a second. He got a strange look on his face before he smiled and said, "This." He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
It was a testament to how hungover I was when I pushed him away before slugging him. I stood up and went to open my door. "You should have thought of that before you slept with that whore last night." I opened the door and went back to bed. I just wanted to pass out.
--
When I next woke up, I felt slightly better. I also realized that I remembered things this time. Last time, I didn't know why I was drinking.
This time, I knew I had punched Gionta. I really needed to stop beating up the men's hockey team.
I crawled out of bed and Ads looked up from her desk. "I heard about Gionta."
"I dont wanna talk about it," I mumbled as I fumbled around my desk drawer for an apple. It was that or go find a bottle of ginger ale somewhere. I still didn't feel so hot. I looked at Ads. "Did I barf on my jersey?"
Ads shook her head. "Nope. I don't know how you managed not to." She winced. "You puked on everything else."
I looked at my jersey. "I'm magic, dude." I smiled. "I'm Harry Potter."
"You sure you're not still drunk."
"That's the worst part."
I found my apple and went to lay on my bed again. Cuddling with my stuffed bear, one thought just kept crossing my mind.
I hated Brian Gionta.
Not this one.
I woke up feeling like my head was attached to Grand Central Station. The pounding had to be worse than a freight train. I tried to open my eyes, but the light blinded me. It was like I was being hit with every hangover I'd ever avoided all at once. I just wanted to pass out to avoid it all.
What the hell had I drank the night before?
I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. Why had I been drinking in the first place? I sat up slowly and gingerly moved the pillow blocking the light from my eyes. I saw the BC hockey jersey I was wearing and it all came flooding back like Niagara Falls.
Gionta.
That prick had been wrapped up with his latest puck bunny and I had run away. I had no idea how many shots I had consumed or of what, I just knew it had been a lot. It had to be to effect me like this. I sighed. This sucked.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a hot mess. My hair was everywhere, falling out of the ponytail I had it in the night before. I could only imagine how long Ads had been holding my hair out of the toilet. I had dark circles under my eyes and my mascara was smeared so badly it looked like I'd been in a bar fight.
It was after a hockey game and I was drunk...am I sure this is makeup? I rubbed my eyes to be sure. The black cleared away. Good. No fight for me last night.
I walked over and picked up my cell phone. I had been saving money for a while for it and it was my baby. I had a voicemail and two texts.
Two texts? That was new.
I checked them first. One was from Rob.
Just wanted to make sure you were ok.
I'd call him later. The other was from-
What the hell?
It was Gionta. I glared at my phone. Why did it let him text me? I was going to blame my phone for everything. Opening the text, I read, What's going on? Give me a call.
I could only imagine what the voicemail was. I didn't check the missed call. Why ruin the surprise? As soon as the voice on the other end spoke, all I could think was, Perfect. Of course.
Jamie, it's Brian. What's going on? What was that about at the bar? I know you were drunk, but damn. Call me.
The message ended and I glared at my phone. I knew that he would eventually get a hold of me. I sighed and went out to the hallway, my head still pounding. I heard his phone ringing and I thought that was weird. Why could I hear his phone?
"I was hoping you'd call." I looked up and saw Brian standing in the hall. He held up his phone and hung it up before walking over and sitting next to me. I sighed.
"What do you want?"
Brian looked at me. "Listen. I know I'm an idiot-"
"At least you realize it."
"Let me finish." He cleared his throat. "I know I'm an idiot, but listen. I like you. I really do. Alright? I just don't know how to show it."
I just looked at him. "And?"
"And? And what?" He looked confused.
"What are you going to do about it?" I wasn't playing games. I was over this stupid drama. I just wanted to sleep off my hangover.
Brian looked at me for a second. He got a strange look on his face before he smiled and said, "This." He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
It was a testament to how hungover I was when I pushed him away before slugging him. I stood up and went to open my door. "You should have thought of that before you slept with that whore last night." I opened the door and went back to bed. I just wanted to pass out.
--
When I next woke up, I felt slightly better. I also realized that I remembered things this time. Last time, I didn't know why I was drinking.
This time, I knew I had punched Gionta. I really needed to stop beating up the men's hockey team.
I crawled out of bed and Ads looked up from her desk. "I heard about Gionta."
"I dont wanna talk about it," I mumbled as I fumbled around my desk drawer for an apple. It was that or go find a bottle of ginger ale somewhere. I still didn't feel so hot. I looked at Ads. "Did I barf on my jersey?"
Ads shook her head. "Nope. I don't know how you managed not to." She winced. "You puked on everything else."
I looked at my jersey. "I'm magic, dude." I smiled. "I'm Harry Potter."
"You sure you're not still drunk."
"That's the worst part."
I found my apple and went to lay on my bed again. Cuddling with my stuffed bear, one thought just kept crossing my mind.
I hated Brian Gionta.