ellipses that shit up

The Morning After (Scott McCall)

Originally posted by holyhalehottness

Summary: alcohol (n.): a liquid in a variety of colors, smells, and tastes that gives the drinker courage to do (and say) something stupid at the cost of their memory

She woke up feeling relatively normal. No hangover, no desire to stay in bed, and no need for ibuprofen. That was a good thing, especially after she knew that she drank a lot in the club last night. But she would take no hangover any day.

She reaches over to her nightstand to check her phone. There was a long list of notifications of likes on a picture she apparently posted on Instagram. She didn’t remember posting it, but let out a sigh of relief when she saw what it was. It was only a pic of her with Lydia, Malia, and Kira at the club with the caption: #girlsnightout. Good. Normal. Nothing stupid.

Good morning.

That was an incoming text from Scott.

Her heart skips a beat and she smiles. Good morning, she texts back. Because it was a good morning. There’s something very good, downright pleasant that the guy she liked for the past six months was sending her a morning text. It didn’t mean anything, of course; they were just classmates and she just so happened to like him.

Just wondering…
But do you remember anything from last night?

That wasn’t a good start.

Not really, she answers. Why do you ask?

You don’t remember what you said to me last night?

Her heart skips another beat, but it’s not a good one. It’s like it just tripped and is dropping to its doom. Oh god. What did she say to him last night? Damn alcohol.

No. What did I say? The three ellipses that pop up is like a countdown to her doom. Shit, shit, shit.

You told me you liked me.


Her heart comes to a halt, and she wants to cry. Fuck, she said that to him? How was she supposed to face Scott in class now? Or even lab? He was her partner in bio chem, and now she made the rest of the semester completely awkward with an admission that she didn’t even know she made.

Her phone makes a few pings. It’s another series of texts from Scott.

You said you had a crush on me and before I could answer, you said you had to go to the bathroom so you left.
I didn’t see you after that.
When I texted Malia, she said that you both left to get steak and eggs.

She buries her head in her hands. Her good, normal morning had turned into a bad one. She should just withdraw and transfer home because there was no way this could get better.

You left before I could say anything.

“I wish you didn’t say anything so I wouldn’t be rejected,” she mutters to her phone.

If you stuck around, you would have known that I like you too.

Oh. Well shit. Things were starting to look up again.