AN: I really didn't mean to leave it almost a month before updating! I apologise. My laptop went away for repair and then I didn't have a lot of time to write. Once again, I am sorry. :) The next chapter will definitely be sooner. I still have to write it though, but I have a fairly good idea of what I want to write. And plus, I have tonnes of time to write. I had originally (pre- laprop disappearing) planned to have the next chapter completed before posting this one, but it hasn't worked that way. And I had surgery to remove a ganglion cyst from my finger yesterday and it's hurting pretty badly (this is after painkillers) so I updated to cheer myself up. *sigh*

I'll be honest with you. Not a lot happens in the chapter. It's filler-y. But I hope you might like it anyway. :)

My Hangover Treatment

I love those Saturday mornings that Elliot and I both have off. We sleep late, watch some morning TV in bed (although Elliot chose to read one of her pregnancy books instead), just generally be lazy. It's 11.30am, and we're only just eating breakfast: A slow breakfast, sitting at the table as opposed to the grab a piece of toast and run while trying to get ready for work.

"You know," Elliot says, as she leafs through a paint chart, "I was thinking we should probably paint the nursery in the house yellow. Or a kinda cream colour."

"How come?"

"Because we don't know what the sex of the baby is and that way it's neutral."

"Yeah. I hadn't thought of that," I respond. "We should probably start thinking about names too."

Without looking back up at me, Elliot slides a book across the table. I pick it up.

"1000 Names for Boys and Girls," I read the book's title. "Awesome." I open the book and being reading.

The calm in the room is disturbed by the sound of the apartment door opening. Alyssa walks in.

"Hey. How was dance class?" Elliot asks.

"It was okay. But people should not be made to do the freaking splits at nine on a Saturday morning. None of us were amused. But our final routines are improving."

"That's good," Elliot says, at the same time picking up a letter from the table. "This came for you, by the way."

Alyssa takes the envelope. "Thanks." She goes to her room.

"Aidan's a nice name," I say, still reading the book.

Elliot looks up from the paint leaflets. "Aidan Dorian?" She thinks for a minute. "Maybe."

Just as I'm about to suggest another name, there is an almighty shout from Alyssa's room.

"Oh my god!"

Alyssa runs out of her room, holding a piece of paper so tightly that it's at risk of tearing.

"What is it, honey? What's wrong?" Elliot quickly says, her face etched with concern.

"IgotintoHavard!"

"What?" Elliot and I say at the same time.

"I got into freaking Harvard!" She repeats, jumping up and down.

Elliot's jaw drops. She glances at me before quickly leaving her seat to hug Alyssa. "Oh my god! Congratulations!"

Alyssa just laughs. I think she's too shocked/happy to really say anything coherent.

"Congratulations, Alyssa." I add. "I'm really happy for you." It's so true. The girl works so hard, she deserves it.

"Thanks," Alyssa responds, her laughter calmed. "Oh my god. I can't believe it! When I applied, I didn't think I had a cat in hell's chance of getting in. Somebody look," Alyssa holds out the letter. "It definitely says I have an offer, doesn't it? I haven't miss read something and am going to be bitterly disappointed when you actually tell me that I've actually been rejected. Right?"

I take the letter from Alyssa and read down it quickly. "Yep. You definitely have an offer. You haven't been rejected and you can keep celebrating."

"Oh thank God," Alyssa giggles. "I can't believe it."

"So who are you going to call first then?" Elliot asks Alyssa.

"My dad," she answers right away. "Then Michael. And then Kate." Alyssa then frowns slightly. "I'm kinda going to run up your phone bill just slightly."

"Don't worry about it," Elliot says. "The phone's all yours."

"Thanks." Alyssa picks up the phone from the base unit, and walks in the direction of her room. "I'll be back in a while." She closes her door behind her.

"Wow," Elliot mutters. "I can't believe it. She got into Harvard. I'm so proud of her. We should do something nice for her. What do you think?"

"Yeah," I agree. "What should we do?"

Elliot frowns. "I'm not sure. We could just let her choose something to do herself. That way she does something she really likes."

"That seems fair."

"You know," Elliot sighs, "when Alyssa goes off for college, I'm really gonna miss her."

I walk over and hug Elliot. "I'm going to miss her too."

Oh my god, I'm still reeling from opening that envelope this morning and seeing that I have a place at Harvard. Something just seems so strange about it though. It's like… I'm now officially going to college! And I'll be moving to Massachusetts in a few months. Holy crap. I'm moving all the way across the country again. But what the hell.

I'm not the only one who got a college offer today. Kate was offered a place at Brown and Michael has a place at UCLA. The phone calls this morning were hilarious. There was a lot of screaming and happiness and laughing. If there were more phone calls like that, the world would be a much happier place.

It was strange talking to my dad about it though. He was so happy that I got a place and everything, but the whole time I was thinking it'll be lucky if he's still around to see me go off to college in September. And I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing because the conversation (what there was of it) was really awkward and neither of us spoke about it. It was like the giant elephant standing on the phone line. My dad's getting sicker, I can clearly see that, and it probably won't be a hell of a lot longer until he decides to go into a hospice. I tried to be happy when I told him, but I just kept thinking of that moment when I'm going to be at the airport and I'm saying goodbye to everyone and he's not there because he's dead. But, I'm trying not to think about that too much. Because if I do, it's just going to upset me, and I don't want to get upset yet.

Kate has a free house tonight. Her parents are away somewhere. Don't ask me where; I don't know. Hell, Kate doesn't even know. When I asked her, she couldn't remember, which is always helpful. And since so many of us got college offers today, she's invited some people in our year around for a house party. As I walk into Kate's house, I'm almost taken aback by the loud music. Wow, there are more people here than I was expecting. Some people I know, but others I'm not so sure of.

When I walk into the living room, Kate almost dances towards me, a cup of something in her hand. "You made it!" She hugs me.

"I made it! There are a lot of people here, by the way. Your parents are gonna be pissed."

Kate scoffs. "Please, they're not going to be back until late tomorrow. I clean this whole place up before then! You need to relaaaaaaaaaaaaax!"

"Have you been drinking?"

"No."

"Kate."

"Okay, maybe I've had one or two," she grins. "I'm just having fun. You want something?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Oh, come on!" Kate whines. "You work hard all the time; you never put a foot wrong. Live a little, girl! Have a drink. You know you want to…"

I roll my eyes. "Screw it. I'll have one drink."

"Yay!" Kate grins. "Okay, so what you having?"

"Just pour me whatever the hell it is you're drinking."

Kate dances away.

What the hell, right? It's a party. One drink won't do any harm.

It's about ten-fifteen minutes later, and my drink is… um… well, gone. I drank it. It tasted like fruit juice.

I'm sitting with Kate and Michael and a few others on Kate's staircase. Actually, when I say I'm sitting with Michael, I mean I'm actually sitting on his knee. Whatever.

While we're still talking and laughing about the most random of crap, David (one of our friends from the hospital who was also invited) returns carrying so many cups, I think he's going to end up dropping them all. "I got more drinks."

Thank you," I say, taking my cup.

We all take a sip of our drinks at the same time, and we all pull the same face.

Michael asks the all-important question. "What the hell did you put in this?"

"Um… Vodka and something else and coke."

"Something else'?" Kate raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, the white-ish coloured bottle?"

"Malibu," Kate responds.

David frowns. "Oops."

"You know what we should do after this," Mason (another hospital guy) says. "We should play 'I've Never'."

"No!" I protest.

"Why not? Too chicken we'll find out all your kinky secrets?"

"I don't have any kinky secrets."

Mason starts making a chicken clucking noise.

"Fine. I'll play if it'll get you to shut up!"

Mason laughs. "Score."

"You get that I hate you, right?"

It's about midnight when Elliot and I decide to go to bed. Well, it was less 'decide' as we were both crashing on the couch trying to watch the TV. When you're falling asleep in front of the TV, it's definitely a sign you should go to bed.

"Do you think we should stay up a little longer?" Elliot says, amidst a yawn. "Alyssa's not home yet from the party."

"Didn't she say she was going to stay at Kate's?"

"Oh, yeah." Elliot climbs into bed, pulling the duvet cover over her. She snuggles into me and I start rubbing her belly.

A second later, I feel the baby kick under my hand. "Wow," I mumble.

Giggling slightly through another yawn, Elliot says, "I never get tired of feeling that. Okay, I'm switching the lamp off." She reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I kiss Elliot's lips, before resting my head on the pillow and closing my eyes.

The next thing I know, is I'm woken with a start by a loud bang coming from the living room. I sit up quickly and look for Elliot. She's still next to me.

"JD, what the hell was that?" She frantically asks. Even in the dark, I can see the fear all over her face.

"I don't know. Stay here."

Damn. There's nothing I can take to use as a makeshift weapon. Nervously, I walk through to the living room. There's no one there. I see then that the kitchen light is on. That's where I go next. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach working in overdrive as I gingerly push back the kitchen door and see…

… ground coffee all over the floor, some smashed glass, the top cupboard open and Alyssa kneeling on the ground frenetically trying to clean it all up. "Shit," she says to herself. She doesn't have a brush, so it trying to clear everything up with her bare hands. This'll end well. "OW!"

See, told you.

Alyssa, who hasn't yet noticed me, looks at the palm of her hand. The cut she has given herself with a rogue piece of glass is bleeding quite heavily for the size of cut it is. She tries to stand up, but stumbles slightly. With another little stagger, she goes to what we've been calling the medicine cupboard, looking for a band-aid (I assume). Finding the box and looking inside it, she realises that there is only one left, and it's one of the tiny ones.

"Yeah, you're going to need something bigger to cover that cut."

Alyssa jumps back in fright, tossing the band-aid box away. "Holy crap!" She says, way too loudly. "Jesus, I got a fright."

"No kidding," I sarcastically respond. "How did the coffee jar end up smashed on the floor?"

"Well, it's a long story, but I was trying to find the coffee, so I knelt on the counter top to reach it but I dropped it and it smashed."

I think I smell… Alcohol. "Alyssa Reid, have you been drinking?"

Alyssa looks down at the ground. "I'm not going to lie. Yes, I have. A lot."

"Right," I say. She is pretty drunk if the strength of the smell of alcohol is anything to go by. "Okay, you should go and try and sleep it off. Go. Now. "

Alyssa walks out of the kitchen quickly and to her room.

"She's going to be paying for that tomorrow." I mutter to myself.

Five minutes later once I've cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, I go back to the bedroom. Elliot is sitting on the bad, wide-awake.

"It was Alyssa," I tell her. "She's drunk."

"You are kidding me? I will kill her." Elliot angrily responds.

"That's maybe not the most effective way of teaching her a lesson."

"What are you saying?"

"Okay, the first time Dan came home drunk…"

Stage one: The Wake-up Call.

It's 7am. Elliot stands by the stereo, which has just for now been moved to right outside Alyssa's bedroom door.

I sit at the breakfast table. I actually made breakfast: fry-up. Which I know is not healthy, but it's all part of the punishment. "You ready?"

"Yep," Elliot says, her face deadly serious.

"Okay then. Three."

Elliot puts the CD in the player.

"Two."

She turns the volume up full blast and walks away.

"One."

Just as Elliot sits back down at the table, the music starts playing so loudly that it hurts your head. And that's when you're sober. Imagine how it would be for someone with a hangover.

After just a few seconds of the music, Alyssa's bedroom door slams open. Her hair is dishevelled, her eyes completely bloodshot. "Oww…." She walks over to the stereo and turns the volume right down, before walking to the table.

"How is your head?" Elliot asks her, a sadistic smirk just playing at her lips.

"Oww." Alyssa rests her head on the table.

I lift a plate and lay it in front of her. "Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?"

Sitting up and taking a look at the food in front of her, Alyssa gags. "No thanks." Her head goes back to the table.

"Come on," Elliot adds. "You should eat something. We spent ages cooking all of this."

"But I feel really sick."

"It'll make you feel better."

Reluctantly, Alyssa picks up her fork and starts eating. She eats about three forkfuls, before the colour completely drains from her face. "Oh my god," she quickly says before leaving the table and running to the bathroom.

Elliot follows her a few seconds later. "Alyssa, are you alright?"

She is answered by the sound of Alyssa hurling.

"Fantastic," Elliot mutters sarcastically. She walks back to the table.

Stage one: Complete.

Stage Two: Forced Study.

It's been two hours since Alyssa first threw up. The girl is suffering. And I know I shouldn't be saying this as a doctor, but it is really entertaining. Oh well, it's teaching her a lesson.

A while ago, Alyssa asked that if we had time, we might help her study once in a while. Well…

"Covalent bonds," Elliot says. She is sitting at the table, Alyssa's solid blue chemistry lab book, in front of her. "Go."

Alyssa lowers her eyebrows. "Um… a covalent bond is… um…"

"You know this."

"A covalent bond is the electrostatic reaction… between a… shared pair of electrons and… the nuclei of two atoms?"

"Good," Elliot responds. She turns the pages. "Okay… what's the relationship between boiling points ant the metallic bond?"

Alyssa thinks. "The lower the boiling point, the weaker the metallic bond."

"Yep. And why?"

"Uh… because the free moving outer electron is further from the nucleus which decreases the electrostatic attraction to the nucleus?"

"Correct."

"Can I please stop?" Alyssa whines. "My head really hurts."

"Come on," Elliot protests. "A few more questions and then you can stop."

Alyssa sighs and puts her head on the table for the millionth time today. She was told she could stop after a few more questions an hour and a half ago when she was doing maths questions. That was painful to listen to.

I just need to wait a little bit for my next part to play.

Elliot continues to question Alyssa: "Describe monatomic elements. Go."

"They're in Group Zero. They are noble gases and all have a full outer electron shell. They exist as single gases. They have very low boiling points ad melting points. The only attractions between them are weak Van der Waals forces. Please can I stop now?"

Elliot closes the book and smiles. "Fine."

And there's my cue. "It's such a nice day." It's true; it's really sunny and according to the weather reports, highs of ninety-five degrees. "You know what we should all do? We should go down to that outdoor mall at Bleaker."

Elliot nods. "That's a good idea. We do need to look for things for the new house."

Not seeming particularly enthusiastic, Alyssa asks the question: "Can I please stay here? I really don't feel well."

"Oh, no," I say. "You should come with us."

"Yeah," Elliot agrees. "We need your help. I mean, who else are we going to get to give us an opinion on things?"

"Carla? Turk?"

Elliot scoffs. "They're both working. Plus, your opinion would mean a lot to us. So go, get ready for 10 and we'll leave. Okay?"

With a glare in Elliot's direction, Alyssa reluctantly stands and heads towards her room.

"Lighten up!" I say as she walks away. "You love shopping."

"You two are evil, you know that?"

"We know," Elliot smirks.

Stage Two: Complete.

Stage Three: The outing.

The sun is shining brightly as we walk around the outdoor mall. While most people (including Elliot and me) are enjoying the weather, Alyssa on the other hand…

"Oww… my head still freaking hurts."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," I say, trying to hide the sadism. "Look at the size of the sunglasses you're wearing."

The lenses of Alyssa's sunglasses are so big that they cover half of her face, and they're so dark that I'm surprised she can actually see out of them at all.

Despite the huge sunglasses, I can still sense the pure venom when Alyssa looks back at me. "No. Just… no."

Even though there was a somewhat nasty ulterior motive for this shopping trip, it has proved to be quite successful anyway. We managed to pick up quite a few paint samples and ideas for the new house; and Elliot even saw some cute newborn-sized baby clothes in neutral colours that we decided to buy and put away.

Now we're walking into a furniture shop. While you would think it would dull down slightly since we're inside, the store's glass ceiling would beg to differ.

"You're inside Alyssa," Elliot says, glancing over her shoulder. "Take the sunglasses off."

"But it's so bright in here."

"Take 'em off, Alyssa."

With a reluctant sigh, Alyssa removes the sunglasses from her face and tosses them in her bag.

"Thank you," Elliot says. "Where should we go first? Nursery department?"

"Sounds like a safe bet to me."

Elliot looks to Alyssa, who is still wincing with the brightness. "What do you think, Alyssa?"

"I don't care."

"Fine then."

We've been wandering around the nursery section for about an hour and a half now. Who knew there was so much to buy? And so much choice.

"I really can't decide which one I like better," Elliot says, looking between two cots.

The cots are fairly similar in style, but the wood of the frames are different shades. One's beech; the other maple.

"Me neither."

Elliot once again looks to Alyssa. "What do you think?"

No response.

"Alyssa? Alyssa!"

Snapped out of her stare into oblivion, Alyssa looks confused. "What?"

I answer. "Which of those two cots do you think is nicer?"

"Um…" She looks between the two of them. "They're both nice?"

"But what's nicer?"

"To be honest, they sort of look the same to me."

Elliot rolls her eyes, before sighing. "Maybe we should wait until we actually decide on a colour scheme before choosing a furniture colour."

"Probably," I agree. "Or we could go to the specialist baby furniture store on the other side of town and see what they've got."

"Okay, enough please, Alyssa suddenly says. "I get it. I screwed up. You're pissed off and you're trying to torture me. But really, I feel horrible, which is punishment enough without all the extra agony. So please can I go home and try to sleep this damn thing off? Please?"

Elliot's face is so serious. Her lips are almost completely horizontal. "Fine then. Let's go home." She starts to walk towards the exit of the store.

Alyssa, with her head hung in shame, does the same.

I would not like to be her right now.

The car ride home was quiet and awkward. As was the elevator ride back up to the apartment. Now we're all back in the apartment. Alyssa heads towards her room.

"Don't go anywhere," Elliot sternly tells her. "We want to talk to you. Sit down."

Following Elliot's instructions, Alyssa takes a seat opposite us at the table.

"Well, I think you've learned somewhat of a lesson here."

Alyssa meekly nods.

"But I have to ask," Elliot says, "what the hell were you thinking getting drunk like that?"

"I don't know," Alyssa answers. "Everyone was drinking and I thought 'okay, I'll just have one drink' and then one drink led to another one. I didn't mean to drink as much as I did."

"Which begs the question: Why were you drinking in the first place?"

"Elliot's right," I add. "You know better than that. You know the dangers. You know it's illegal. How did you get a hold of the alcohol anyway?"

"Some other people brought it over."

"And how did they get it?" I ask.

Alyssa cringes. "Fake IDs."

"Should've guessed," Elliot mumbles. "Okay, I hate to do this… but… you're grounded. For a week. No cell phone, no laptop. Only out for school and volunteering. You got it? We're really disappointed in you."

"Yeah," Alyssa frowns. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Elliot says. "Go to your room."

Once Alyssa is gone, Elliot turns to me. "Was that too harsh? Did we do the right thing there?"

"I think we did," I answer. "She's got to learn some way."

I'm so embarrassed with myself about Saturday night. I can't believe I got as drunk as that. Honestly, there are parts of Saturday night that are just a blur. I've definitely learned my lesson.

Free period today should be interesting. Maybe between everybody who was there on Saturday we can piece together what actually happened? That could be entertaining and/or painful. We shall see.

Just as I am reaching the study room, Kate walks out. "Hey," she says. "I'm wandering down to the office. Wanna come with?"

"Yeah." I continue walking past the study room door, and through the music corridor.

"How hungover were you on Sunday morning?" I ask Kate.

Kate sighs. "I have never fell so ill in my life. You?"

"I was dead," I respond. "I really was."

When I tuck the hair behind my ear, Kate glances at my hand. "How did you get that cut on your hand?"

"I was clearing up the shards of a coffee jar which I somehow - don't ask me how, I don't remember - managed to drop out of the top cupboard, which woke up Elliot and JD who decided to use all of yesterday to torture me by aggravating the hangover. Word of advice: never do maths when you're hung over. Just… don't do it."

This is a really slow walk to the office.

Kate has a really weird look on her face. "So um… how much of Saturday night do you actually remember?"

"Um… I remember when we started drinking then it all goes downhill from then on. Oh! I do remember us sitting on your staircase singing at the top of our voices."

"That really happened?" Kate cringes. "God, I was really hoping I'd dreamed that up. What were we singing?"

"Jesus Take the Poker Face Love Story Friends Met Your Mother theme song."

Kate raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we barely made it through the chorus of one song before you randomly started singing another one. It was… weird. We got yelled at to shut up after about half an hour. And then you disappeared and I think – please note the use of the word 'think' - I went to hang out with Michael."

"Which reminds me," Kate sternly says. "Could you please tell your boyfriend that I never, ever wish to see his bare ass in my coat closet ever again? 'Kay, thanks."

"What?"

A bewildered look spreads over Kate's face and she stops walking. "You don't remember? Seriously?"

"No," I quietly respond. "I have no idea what you're getting at."

"Really? You don't know?"

"I really don't. So, please. Enlighten me."

With a laugh, Kate shakes her head before looking at me. "I sort of - actually there's no 'sort of' about it. I walked in on you and Michael in the coat closet."

"What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes. "I walked in on you."

"Huh? You walked in on – Oh my god!"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god, we had sex in your coat closet?!"

Kate pulls a disgusted face.

Before she makes a comment, I add, "I meant 'we' as in me and Michael. Oh my god. And you walked in?!"

"Yeah." Kate's disgusted face returns. "It was a… sobering experience to say the least. And that was after I and everyone else had seen some of your other public displays of affection. Seriously, every time I turned around the two of you were making out. It was severely nauseating."

"Oh crap," I mutter. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Hey. Just be thankful it was me that walked in and not somebody else. If that had got around school, you would never have heard the end of it."

"No-one else knows?"

Kate shakes her head. "You seriously have no recollection of that? How?"

"I was completely hammered. We both were," I answer, putting a hand on my head. "I am never drinking alcohol again," I quietly say to myself, just as we reach the office.

Kate raises a sarcastic eyebrow. "Yeah. Right then."

"Oh my god. I could not be more mortified right now."

"Give yourself a break," Kate responds. "You weren't the only one out of their face on Saturday. And you won't be the first girl in the world to have drunkenly doinked her boyfriend in somebody else's coat closet."

"Not helping with the embarrassment."

"Sorry. Put it this way: at least it can't get any worse."

"I guess," I sigh. "But for the record I am never going to a party at your house again. In fact, I probably shouldn't even be speaking to you right now."

"Probably not. But you will anyway."

"Yeah. By the way, who needs enemies when they have friends like you?"

Kate's jaw melodramatically drops. "Bitch! I'm not taking to you."

"Yeah, right then."

Kate glares at me. I jestingly grin before we both start laughing.