I've Got Luck

I can hear pounding but worst of all, I can feel it. My head is like it's own set of drums and all I want to do is crawl under a rock and die. My eyes refuse to open.
"Ashlynn," Jackson says outside of my bunk.
"Go away, please," I groan.
"The guys and I are heading out for a while," he says.
"Okay."
"How are you feeling?" He asks.
"Like a million dollars."
He lets out a chuckle, "alright, we'll see you later."
"Bye."
I mutter profanities under my breath as I listen to them leave. Once the bus is silent, I relax on my bunk again and try to sleep. I try to ignore the obnoxious drumming in my head. As I continue to lay there, my eyes shut, the bus peaceful...a loud pounding breaks my relaxation, and it's not the pounding in my head.
"Come on!" I exclaim and get off my bunk.
I ignore the pounding as I head to the front of the bus to the door. I shove it open, not really caring if I hit the person on the other side of it.
"What?" I mutter.
Alex comes into view.
"You look awful," he observes.
"Screw off."
"And bitchy."
"I'm bitchy because you guys made me get drunk."
He chuckles, "hey, no one made you get drunk."
I roll my eyes, "what can I do for you Alex?"
He pushes past me and I groan as I shut the door and walk up the 3 steps and look at him, arms crossed over my chest.
"We gotta talk about last night," he says hesitantly.
I give him a confused look, "what about last night?"
Than it hit me - I was drunk last night with like, 7 guys. No control over my actions.
"What did I do?" I ask nervously as I sit on the cushioned bench.
"You said things to me," he begins slowly, "but I don't know if it was drunk talk or true feelings."
"True feelings?" I ask confused.
"You told me you like me," he says, just rips the band-aid off.
My head drops into my hands, "I did?"
"Yeah," he replies, he lets out a nervous cough.
"Did I do anything?" I whisper.
"No," he says quickly, "no. You just said that."
"Oh thank god!"
"But I mean," he says, "do you, uh, actually like me?"
"Do you like me?" I shoot back.
He looks around, finding his right choice of words. I know what's going to happen.
"I like you," he says slowly, "you're a really nice, beautiful, fun and talented person."
I bite the inside of my cheek, here comes the "but" - I'm used to it.
"But," there it is, "I don't think I feel that way about you."
"Think?" I ask, a little bit of annoyance creeping inside me.
"Well, I mean, you're the type of girl I would date."
"Type of girl you would date?" I stand up, "don't try to feel bad for me, Alex. I don't care if you like me or not. I didn't even tell you whether I actually feel that way."
He stops and looks at me, "do you?"
I stare back at him, my eyes eventually dropping to the floor. I can't admit it now, I think to myself.
"No."
"Oh. Okay," he says, obviously dumbfounded.
"Well if that's all you needed to say..." I begin, needing to be alone to wallow in self-pity.
"Um," he says standing, "yeah, okay. Take care of that hangover."
I watch him leave and I fall back on the bench. My head falls back as I stare off at nothing. You dumbass.