The piercing ring of a cell phone made Nico sit up in bed so
fast he felt dizzy. He groaned as the sunlight filtered through his French
windows and staggered over to shut the curtains, making his room dark again. He
stumbled around, his head throbbing as he searched for his phone.
The screen was bright, and he winced, but Nico answered and
grumbled a tired, “Hello?”
“Are you sober now?” came Will’s crisp, angry voice.
Nico fell back into his bed, shutting his eyes. “Yes, I
think so,” he answered.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “So, how many people did you make
out with last night?”
The first thing that came to mind was to shout, “None!” But
then he realized he barely remembered what happened. But it hadn’t been very
good the entire time. He remembered the alcohol hitting him hard, he remembered
panicking, he remembered stumbling. He had no idea who had made him panic or
how he got home, or what time he’d gotten home.
“I didn’t kiss anyone,” he finally answered. “Thanks for
thinking that of me.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t turn this on me. I know you! I know
how you get when you’re drunk!” Nico winced as he shouted and groaned into a
pillow. “Are you even fucking awake?”
“Stop screaming at me!” he shouted back, despite his
“Oh, I’m sorry, did your excursion last night leave you
fucked up and confused? Then maybe you should stop getting so drunk any time
you get the chance!”
“Oh my God, Will! I’m sorry that I don’t have a fucking
stick up my ass that keeps me from having fun sometimes, okay? Yeah I drank, so
fucking what? I’m a teenager, I want to have fun! It was fucking New Year’s- everyone gets drunk!”
There was a long pause on the phone, but Will hadn’t hung
up. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispered so softly Nico barely heard him. His
breaths hollowed and a heavy feeling settled in his chest. “No, I don’t need
alcohol to have a decent time, Nico. I thought maybe you didn’t anymore either.
But I was wrong. Feel better.”