Don't Give up on Me

The morning after the bonfire was hell. When I awoke, I had a killer hangover and the worst headache in the world, not to mention my constant nausea.

Currently, I was lying in Charlotte's attached bathroom, pressing my cheek against the cool porcelain bathtub as I waited for my nausea to subside. My throat burned from the lack of water/throwing up so much. I hadn't been this hungover since I lived in Texas- and I hadn't even drinken that much compared to what I did back then.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte asks, sitting on the edge of the tub and handing me a bottle of water, and a few pills. "Tylenol for your head, and something to settle your stomach until you eat properly."

"Thank you," I croak out weakly, taking them all and resting again. "How's Cara holding up?" I'd heard the blonde in the other bathroom, going through the same thing I was. Her's was worse, though; last night was her first taste of any kind of alcohol, and now she was suffering her first hangover, too. I felt awful for her.

"For a lightweight, not too bad," Charlotte smiles. "How are you? You were pretty bad when I dragged you into the car last night."

"I can't remember anything after I talked to Cara about Micheal. After that, its black. Nothing. I wasn't too embarassing last night, was I?"

She laughs. "Well, when I tried to peel you away from your precious Zacky, you said I was mean because he asked you to stay with him," she says, her tone playful and teasing. "And I wouldn't let you. You also called me a bitch for not letting you sleep naked."

"He asked me to stay with him and you didn't let me?!" I ask, completely ignoring her other comment.

"You're still mad about that?" she replies, crossing her arms and leaning on the wall. "He's not even your boyfriend, Andi, I wasn't about to let you two drunkenly hook up and mess everything up."

"Right..." I finally agreed, sighing. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"No worries. Do you know how good of a friend I am?" she asks. I nod. "No, you don't actually. I totally covered for you and made sure Ryan wasn't about to kill you for not checking in, and I've made you tea and breakfast. How fabulous am I?"

"What's it gonna cost me?" I ask jokingly, feeling relieved that she even went to all that trouble for me.

"Your soul," she says. "Oh wait, you don't have one."

I actually laugh. "Ginger jokes just don't get old to you, do they?"

"Nope! Now come on, let's get you out of this bathtub," she grins, helping me out and leading me downstairs, where Charlotte's older sister stood at the stove, scraping eggs in a pan.

"Oh God, that smell is so revolting," I gag, turning to go back where I'd came from, only Charlotte kept a firm grip on my wrist to stop me. "Do you want me to puke all over your kitchen, Char?"

"Not really, but considering you've spent almost an hour doing just that, I figure you haven't got anything else in you," she shrugs, taking a seat at the bar and spreading cream cheese onto a bagel. "So, I'm not too worried."

"Here, you need to eat something," her older sister, Jenna, says, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. "And no, it wont make you sick. Just eat."

"Okay," I sigh, not putting up an argument. I eat them slowly, so I wouldn't upset my stomach any more than it already was. Charlotte gives me a large mug of tea with honey to wash it all down with, and I felt a lot better. Cara stumbles in with Violet behind her, the both of them mirroring how I felt.

"Well, I'm never drinking a goddamn drop of alcohol again," Cara groans, resting her head on the marble counter beside me. We all look at her in shock; sure, when she was mad (or drunk), she would swear, but other than that, she didn't even use words like 'hell' or 'damn' because she hated cursing.

"You must be extremely hungover then," I say in response to her outburst. "The first one's always the worst."

"Can you take me to go get my car, Char?" Cara mumbles into her arm. "I think being miserable in my own bed would suit me better."

"Yeah, let's go," she replies. "Are you two going to be alright?"

"We're 16 years old, Charlotte, we're not six," I roll my eyes.

"You sure acted like you were last night," Charlotte replies quickly, grabbing her keys from the counter. "I'll be back in a bit," she shouts purposefully, making Vi and I cringe as she slams the door and leaves.

Jenna only laughs before following suit. "I've got a date at the cinema with a cute boy, feel better, girls!"

"And then there were two," I mutter under my breath, sliding my empty plate into the sink.

"Actually, its just you... Matt's outside waiting for me," Violet half smiles. "Sorry, Andi."

"It's fine. Go on, I'll be okay."

She gives me a small hug before meeting her boyfriend outside, leaving me all alone in Charlotte's quiet home. I make my way upstairs and into the shower, hoping like hell that the warm water would make me feel better than I felt. It helped some, making me feel more refreshed as I dressed in new clothes and relaxed in Charlotte's bed, a thick fluffy towel still wrapped around my hair. I spot my cell charging on the bedside table and gasp when I see the time; it was nearly three in the afternoon. I saw that Charlotte had also bullshitted to my brother that we were at the mall right now and were at the movies the night before, and he totally bought it all.

I look at the next message I have in my phone and laugh quietly, unable to help myself. It was a complaint from Zacky saying he had ended up getting this job at a hardware store and today just so happened to be his first day of work. "I don't know if seven bucks an hour is worth this," his latest message said.

"Quit bitching. At least you got the job," I reply, smiling to myself. "So get back to work, punk."

I put my phone down and close my eyes, yawning. My headache was almost gone, as was my nausea. I did, however, feel extremely tired, so I took the oppurtunity to sleep for a bit while Charlotte was still out.

I'd hardly closed my eyes when I heard Charlotte walk into her room. "God damn it..." I sigh.

"Get up. I'm taking you home. My house is only parent-free until tonight at eight, and Brian's on his way," she says bluntly, making me groan.

"I didn't need that mental image," I mutter under my breath, quickly picking my stuff before sliding my boots on and following her downstairs, damp hair and all. The five block drive didn't last long at all, and before I knew it, I was walking up my drive, hoping like hell that I'd remembered my keys.

I did, thankfully, so I successfully get into the house only to see my brother sitting in the recliner, looking sullen over something. "What's wrong, brat?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "Nothing. Why would you assume anything is wrong?"

"Dude, you're crying. Why are you crying?" I ask, genuinely interested for once.

"Here. You got one, too, you may as well read what she wrote you," he says quickly, shoving a thick envelope into my hands.

My heart stops as I read the familiar, loopy handwriting. I flip over the envelope and gasp at what I see.

"Andria, darling, please read this," my mother's writing read, my stomach dropping to my feet. I felt so sick, and not from my hangover; the shock of the woman who abandoned me almost two years ago had finally decided to give me her time.

And I wasn't sure how to feel.