Scarlette
A pounding in my head jolted me from a deep sleep.
Like a hammer beating against my skull, I felt like my head would burst at any second. Groaning, I rolled over and a wave of nausea swept over me. Oh no, I was going to be sick. Struggling to sit up, I knew that I needed to get to the bathroom and fast.
As I went to move, my head began to spin as though the world around me was a tilt-a-whirl.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a gruff voice said, surprising me.
Rubbing my eyes, I was astounded to see Ason sitting in my white chair beside my window. He was smoking and dropping his ashes onto the white carpet below him. Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I saw that it was almost five in the morning. Why was Ason at my house?
In my room?
Talking to me?
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning striking down on me, images of last night played through my head like a bad movie.
Drinking punch.
Dancing.
Fighting with Ason.
Oh no, what have I done?
A paralyzing fear washed over me and I crawled back in bed, pulling my sheets over my body. Ason wasn’t supposed to be here. In fact, I was pretty sure that he hated me. His scowling face was locked in my mind and it was something I was sure I would never forget.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice dry and scratchy.
My stomach still churned and I felt like I was going to vomit any second now. This couldn’t be how I died.
Ason leans forward, placing his hands on his knees as he stares at me. The soft glow from the lights outside filter in through the window and cast a dreamy glow across his features. No one should look as good as Ason does. Honestly, it should be a crime.
A low chuckle erupts from him and I almost tremble under the sound. “Well, after you got drunk last night and almost made a huge mistake, I brought you home.” His words came out angry and rough; just like him.
Dancing and drinking several cups of the punch rush my mind and I cringe at the memory. I know that I should probably be thanking him for getting me home safely, but there is something in his tone and mood that makes me feel like he is angry that he had to bring me home at all. I may not remember much from last night, but I am pretty certain that I would never ask Ason—or any of the Elites in general—for a ride home. Especially, when I had gone to the party with Macy. Wait! Macy!
“What happened to Macy? She had driven me to the party,” I cried.
Ason only stared at me again. “Your mind must be a jumbled mess. You keep asking questions,” he half laughed.
Again, it seemed as though he were insulting me, instead of helping me. “Well, I just don’t understand any of this,” I began. “I mean, I only talked to you for the first time ever last week. Now, you are sitting in my bedroom after a night I barely remember,” I let the words spill out of me. My head still ached and I couldn’t fight off the nausea much longer. My mouth opened as a gag erupted.
Ason rushed to the side of the bed, lifting my small trashcan up to me as I hurled over and began vomiting all of the pink liquid from last night. Once I felt like my stomach was empty, I fell back against my pillows. This was just great. Not only had I gotten drunk in front of Ason last night, now I had just puked in front of him. I was sure the entire school would know about this by Monday.
“Thank you,” I whispered, as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
Ason scowled as he tied the plastic bag inside of the trashcan.
“Have you ever done this before? Been drunk?” he asked, his narrow eyes seeming to judge me. There was pity there, too, and I wasn’t sure which one infuriated me more.
As I shook my head, I instantly regretted the movement. Pain sliced through me and I swear, I felt like my head was going to crack open from the pounding.
“No, never.”
Sighing, Ason ran a hand through his dark hair. “I think Macy tried to stop you, but then you were out of control. I grabbed you once a few guys were going to make a move. You know, you have no business being at a party like that,” he stated fiercely.
Ason really had a lot of nerve. How much humiliation could I take from him. Even though I felt like death, I forced myself to sit up and look him in the eyes. I caught a glimpse of myself in my dresser mirror and I wanted to scream. My unruly hair was all over the place and my eyes were bloodshot. I’m sure I didn’t smell great either.