Light streams in through my window shades as I feel every one of my muscles tighten and relax. The pounding in my head could be heard for blocks as my eyes finally started rolling around in their sockets taking in the new day. I opened my eyes and immediately regretted that horrible decision as my brain screamed in protest. I roll over onto my back and carelessly throw an arm over my eyes as I try to remember why I feel this shitty. An odd scent catches my attention as I realize that it is not a customary smell for my room, but not unpleasant and surprisingly familiar. I realize pretty quickly that the smell is coming from my hair as I pull my raven locks across my face and inhale. The mysterious smell is strawberry jell-o, and than the last 24 hours hit me like a tidal wave.
"No. No no no n-shit," I say to myself as I start panicking over to my mirror and in the process stub my toe on a dresser. "Just my fucking luck," I mutter as I look in the mirror. My eyes go wide as sure enough there is a pair of bright red lip marks on my neck slightly covering what looks to be a nice sized bruise. I rest my forehead against the cool metal as I try to control myself.
I stumble my way back to my phone, which is laying half hazardly in my messed up covers. I gently lay myself back onto the bed and start scrolling through my messages. Two from Quinn, two from Artie, and ten from Puck. I groan again as I set my phone down promising I'll answer them in a second as the memories from last night swirl in my head in an intoxicating pattern of her. What the hell have I gotten myself into.