"Why did you get drunk?" Miles asked, his tone about as serious as it could get. This was a voice Lola had never quite heard out of Miles Hollingsworth. He'd surely never addressed her this sternly.

All she could do was shrug and look at her toes, though. What was she to tell him? That her confusion and pain about him had lead her to hitting the bottle? That wouldn't make his life any easier. And there was no way she was going to use the information she'd just overheard as reasoning. She'd forever have to act like she was absolutely asleep during that conversation. It wasn't fair any other way. He'd told that information to Frankie and Frankie only. To reveal she was eavesdropping was to betray his trust and invade his privacy. Though, she'd already actually done those things... But revealing it was a whole different story.

"Just tell me." Miles said. He sounded tired. The hour and a half of nursing a puking Lola back to health undoubtedly had a part in his sleepy tone. Lola shut her eyes tight. There was no way to get out of this unless some magical fairy entered the room and saved her. And Lola had stopped believing in fairies like... three years ago.

"I just wanted to get drunk. I've never been that drunk. And...why not tonight? I graduated high school. I have a right to celebrate." Lola finally said. That was excuse enough, right?

Miles sat on his bed, pulling Lola so she was sitting right next to him. "Yeah, you really sounded like you were having fun when you were blacked out, soaking wet from the pool, and crying on the floor asking me why I didn't love you." He paused. It almost sounded like he was choking up. This was weird.

"I really did that?" Lola questioned. That was incredibly embarrassing, and she'd decided that there wasn't a chance in the world that she was ever going to drink that much again. Apparently it was true about sober thoughts coming out when you were drunk. She thought some part of her brain would've saved her dignity. But she also didn't realize blacking out was a real thing. It was scary to think that for a while, her body was alive but her brain wasn't even there.

Miles nodded, and Lola noticed that tears were now streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably. One after another, chasing one another to see which one could reach his chin and drop onto his chest the fastest. She'd never seen tears fall so effortlessly. "I felt like crap." He said. "I just stood there. Rubbing your back as you puked, then cried, then puked, then... I didn't know what to do. I had to make up some fake emergency to get Frankie out of the room as soon as you started saying that stuff because it just felt wrong for anyone else to hear it. To know how I treated you like crap." He finally looked up, looking Lola in the eyes. His eyes had gone from the deep hazel they always were to a shining green, illuminated by the tears welling up and the redness covering the whites. "I just stood there. Telling myself that it wasn't true, that I couldn't have hurt you this badly. I didn't know you cared this much."

"I did." Lola said, before correcting herself. "I do."

She felt so guilty for showing her cards like that. She'd hoped that if she were to reveal how deeply she truly cared and how much he'd hurt her that she'd at least have time to prepare and tell him the way she wanted. But alcohol had taken that decision away from her. Damn champagne and tequila.

Miles broke the eye contact the two were making and looked down at his shirt, which was now drenched in fallen tears. Lola noticed that he'd changed his shirt since she saw him earlier in the day. "Did I...puke on you?" Lola asked, breaking out into a slight smile. All of this was so embarrassing and awkward. She couldn't help but smile just a little.

"Yeah." Miles's face contorted into a smirk. "You kind of collapsed into my chest as soon as they brought you in from the pool. I decided to change after the mix of pool water, puke, and tears. And it was unfortunate, because that was kind of one of my favorite shirts." He raised his brows playfully, finally breaking the tension between the two. "You really ought to apologize." He said.

Lola let out a laugh before picking up one of the pillows from Miles's bed and hitting him with it. "I've had a long night. I don't have the energy to apologize right now." She said, and Miles conceded, raising his hands to indicate defeat. Lola looked at him for a moment before coming back to reality and realizing that she hadn't checked in with her dad like she'd promised she would. Her hands patted Miles's bed with urgency with no avail. "Phone?" She asked reluctantly. She didn't want Miles to think she wasn't entertained by him, but she really needed to get her phone before her dad showed up at the Hollingsworth house and killed her after seeing that the pool area was no doubt covered in evidence that pointed to alcohol.

"Your phone is on life support right now. A big bowl of rice. Apparently drunk Lola wasn't concerned about getting her phone wet. You jumped right in with your phone in your pocket, and from Frankie's account, tried to take some underwater selfies with Yael. You were apparently calling them pool-fies. I'm not sure why I'm the one in writing school when you came up with that gem."

"Blasphemy!" Lola exclaimed. "I would never risk my phone like that. I don't even take shower selfies because I'm afraid I'm going to get water in the wrong port and kill my phone. Drunk Lola is so not like sober Lola. And I kind of hate her." She said, scooting her body a few inches closer to Miles. Taking a risk. Taking a chance. Hoping he wouldn't reject her.

And he didn't. He played right into it, bringing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close. "I'll definitively say I prefer sober Lola." He said, poking a finger at Lola's ribs, making her jump. "You're not nearly as much fun when you're puking your guts out."

All Lola wanted to do in this moment was lean over and kiss Miles. But there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be smooching anyone with puke breath. Not to mention, they still had plenty to talk about before anything was happening. Sure, she knew that Vivian was out of the picture and Miles wanted her, but that didn't solve the tons of other problems they'd still have to deal with over time. It wasn't going to be all solved in a night, but some of it should be solved before Lola swapped spit with Miles again. Or hopped into bed with him, which seemed to be their thing.

Lola heard footsteps in the hallway and shrugged Miles's arm off of her shoulder. It could be anyone. Frankie, Mrs. Hollingsworth, maybe even her father. She didn't really want anyone to be let in on this moment, so it was safer to just keep this to themselves until they figured it out.

"You're awake!" Frankie exclaimed a little too loudly. "Everyone is finally out, by the way." She reported, her eyes falling on Miles. "Took forever, and I probably spent five hundred dollars on cabs alone... But... That's the cost of a kickass party, right?"

Miles and Lola looked at one another, both with furrowed brows. If that was what Frankie thought equated to kickass party... Then sure.

Frankie sat in between the two, breaking the magic that Miles and Lola had conjured and bringing them back to reality. "Your dad was blowing up my phone, by the way. I told him you fell asleep and sent him a picture of you all cuddled up with a teddy bear. Hope that's okay." Frankie said. At least Frankie had the whole dad situation under control, even if it was a little weird to take a photo of your passed out drunk friend. "He bought it, so you're welcome." Frankie teased.

"Yeah, uh, thanks." Lola said, looking past Frankie and looking at Miles. For some reason, the presence of someone who wasn't supposed to realize the chemistry between Miles and Lola made the sparks into fireworks. Her desire to lean in and kiss Miles turned into a burning need. But she couldn't right now. And that was slightly killing Lola. "What time is it?" She asked, realizing she had no idea what the time was at all. It could be midnight or noon. She had zero concept of the time. Passing out drunk could do that to a girl.

Frankie pulled her phone out of her pocket. "3:19 A.M." She said, and it was as if realizing the time was a tranquilizer, because suddenly Frankie, Lola, and Miles were all simultaneously yawning. Frankie eyed her best friend and her brother and it was as if she read Lola's mind. "I'll go make sure the house is locked up and leave you two to your goodnights." She gave Lola a knowing look that was somewhere between 'get it girl' and 'you owe me one'.

There was silence for a moment after Frankie left. But as soon as her footsteps faded away, confirming that she'd left the immediate area, Miles pulled Lola in tight. "I know you wouldn't want me to kiss you with your puke breath, so I won't. But... I do love you. I hope you know that. So, no reason to get drunk again."

Lola blushed. Miles knew her a little bit too well, which was evident from the puke comment. The other thing left her speechless. He loved her. Like, truly loved her, and felt comfortable telling her. She had to push the thoughts that told her maybe he was just influenced by loneliness, or seeing her cry like that, to the back of her mind. She'd probably always have doubt, but they didn't matter right now. All she wanted to do was enjoy the night.

"Can I sleep in here?" Lola asked. "I always liked this bed."

Miles nodded, pulling his shirt off and handing it to her, something he'd done both times they spent the night together before. "I always liked this bed too. Even better when you're in it, though."