I open my eyes slowly..."Fuck," I gasp under my breath. My head feels like splitting in two. I've had bad hangovers before but this has to be the worse. There's a slight ringing in my ears that only makes my headache a hundred times worse. I stare at my bedroom ceiling; at least I made it home. I try to sit up but my body is in no fit state to move so therefore refuses and I close my eyes and go back to sleep.

I'm woken up by the ringing of my phone; I ignore it and hope it goes away. It doesn't. Giving up I grab my bag from last night and dig around for my phone. I have four messages from Carly concerned firstly if I got home okay, secondly did I get her message, thirdly she's really worried and finally she's coming over now if I don't reply. I reply bluntly telling her I'm fine, nursing a killer hangover and I'll call her when I'm not dying. It's already eleven o'clock and I still don't feel any better. I debate sleeping more or trying to eat something. Suddenly I smell bacon. Salty and delicious; I smile, then grimace and then sprint to the bathroom.

After throwing up for the third time I decide eating something is not the best plan and lie down on the bathroom floor. I hear footsteps downstairs, great; the last thing I want is a hypocritical lecture off my mother. So I crawl back to my room and hide in my bed hoping to sleep through the day and night until tomorrow when the horrible hangover monster goes to bother someone else.

Sleep doesn't happen but a lot of thinking does. Not thinking entirely more like remembering or trying to remember. Carly had a party. Yes you heard me right, Carly had a party. A proper alcohol infused, parent free, music loud, party. I supposed Gibby and I had encouraged her but she wasn't the one forcing us all to shots, a lot of shots. I swear people don't know this girl, I'm a bad influence to her but she brought this on all of us.

I remember a few things dancing with Gibby topless (him, not me), making Freddie down his drinks, carrying Carly to bed after she passed out and then kicking everyone out. I remember something else but I don't know if I want to. Freddie. Everyone was gone, Gibby was checking on Carly and we were sat on the couch. Just talking, whispering things I actually don't remember, drunken nonsense probably. And I think he walked me home. I don't know why I didn't stay at Carly's; he just seemed to convince me. I remember him hugging me to but I don't know where or why. Maybe I dreamt it. I'm having a lot of those types of dreams now, one's about Freddie and his arms, usually they're around me. He really does have nice arms.

I hear the footsteps again; they're coming up the stairs. I also smell coffee. My mom wouldn't bring me coffee, Mel must be home. I sit up and for the first time look at what I'm wearing, a striped t-shirt and black boxer shorts. I hate stripes. This t-shirt is not mine. This is the t-shirt Freddie was wearing last night. My heart skips a beat; this t-shirt belongs to Freddie Benson. Freddie Benson who is now standing in my doorway with two cups of coffee and is just wearing his boxers.

"Shit."
"Good morning to you too Sam," He laughs nervously.