Alyssa groaned and buried her head in her pillow. She had a splitting headache and her stomach was churning.
So this is what a hangover feels likeā¦
She opened on eye and looked up. Marie was sitting in a chair next to her hammock, looking down at her worriedly.
"Alyssa? You awake?" She whispered.
"Yeah, I'm up." She mumbled, her voice raspy and weak. Even the little amount of noise made her headache worsen. She groaned again.
"Jack said that you'd have a headache. He told me to give you this." She handed her a small cup. Alyssa drank the bitter liquid carefully, grimacing at the taste.
"What did I do last night?"
"Besides drink?" She paused. "You don't want to know." Alyssa frowned.
"Was it that bad?"
"Could have been worse." Marie shrugged and gave a comforting smile. "Considering the amount you drank, much worse."
"How much?"
"As you put it: seventy-ten." Marie chuckled a little. The whole situation was rather humorous, now that her sister wasn't drunk.
"Oh joy." Alyssa rubbed her face with her hands.
"You know, you act really strange when you're drunk."
"She acts strange when she's not." Jack said loudly, slamming the door behind him.
"Shut up!" Alyssa hissed, her headache getting worse.
"Oops. Sorry luv." He looked over to Marie. "Did you give her the stuff?"
"Yeah, she drank it."
"Drank it? She's not supposed to drink it." Both of them looked at him wide eyed. Alyssa put a hand over her mouth, feeling like she was about to gag.
"What was I supposed to do with it then!?" Alyssa yelled, grabbing her head.
"Never mind that. How ye feeling?"
"Hung over you idiot."
"No need to get snappish luv."
"Um, I'm gonna go get some air. It's kinda stuffy in here." Marie said, slowly getting up. She gave Alyssa a weird look and left. Jack took her seat.
"I must say, ye certainly acted wilder than I expected." He quipped, inspecting his fingernails. "Course ye didn't do what I was hoping ye to, but still."
"What do you mean, than you expected?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Oh nothing luv."
"Are you trying to tell me that you got me drunk on purpose?!"
"Who, me?" He looked down at her, trying his best to look innocent.
"Yes you." She glared at him. "Why else would you keep getting me drinks?"
"Because ye seemed to be enjoying them." He shrugged.
"Oh shut up."
"So what if I did get ye drunk on purpose? I don't think you're in good condition to fight back."
"I swear, when I feel better, I will get you back."
"Of course luv. Ye just keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." She groaned, more out of annoyance than pain.
He slammed the door as he left, only adding to the throbbing.
"He is so dead."
I know, I know, even shorter than before. But the next is much longer, and much more exciting, and almost done too, so just bare with me. And review. Yeah, that would be nice.
Chicaga
