When I woke up, I couldn’t even open my eyes. My head pounded so hard that it hurt just to raise my eyelids. Also, I hadn’t washed off my makeup, and a combination of mascara and false eyelash glue made things more difficult. I didn’t need to open my eyes right now anyway.

I drifted back to sleep for a minute. I dreamt that I was on the sideline cheering for Martin. There were more people in the stadium than I had ever seen in my four years on the team. My parents and Sebastian were sitting in the front row. I looked down and realized that I was wearing nothing but my bra and underwear. I tried to keep cheering like nothing was wrong, but thousands of people were pointing at me.

I woke with a start. I felt terrible. It took me a few seconds to realize that I had no idea where I was. It looked like my room, but none of these belongings were mine. I looked at the bed and saw Martin there, with a bare arm and leg hanging off the side of the bed. Why was he naked? Why was I in bed with him? Suddenly, I was very aware of my own nakedness. I quickly pulled my clothes on, waking him in the process.

“Good morning,” he said sleepily. “How are you feeling?”

“What is going on?”

“Please tell me you didn’t black out again,” his smile turning into a frown.

“I must have, because I have no idea why I’m here,” I said, frustrated.

“Don’t get upset, you’re the one who got in my bed first.”

“Who let me have all of that alcohol?” I asked.

“You did,” he responded. “We tried to convince you it wasn’t a good idea, but you kept pouring yourself drinks.”

“This is a nightmare,” I said, holding my pounding head in my hands.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. I wish you could remember it.”

“Are you kidding me?” I shouted at him.

I felt violated. We were in bed together, naked, and I didn’t remember a thing. If I was so drunk that I blacked out for several hours of my life, then how could I even be conscious enough to have sex?

I ran into his bathroom and locked the door. I steadied myself on the edge of the sink and cried. I really liked him. How could he have sex with me when I wasn’t even sober enough to be into it?

I looked in the mirror. I looked horrendous. Makeup was smeared all over my face and my hair was a tangled mess. I couldn’t walk back to my dorm like this, people would see. I took off my clothes and stepped into his shower.

I heard a knock on the door.

“Alexa, open the door. I don’t think you understand.”

I understood, all right. These guys were all the same. They act all sweet and kind, but they only want one thing. I felt stupid. I’d been in similar situations before, but with guys who meant nothing to me. I was starting to think I could really trust him.

I squeezed a small dollop of his body wash in my hand and rubbed on the sticky spots on my body. Someone must have spilled a sugary drink on me. The smell gave me instant flashbacks to resting my head on his chest.

I rinsed it off, but the smell stuck in my brain. I stuck my face under the running water for a few minutes, hoping the steam would help the alcohol seep out of my body.

When I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror, I looked just as bad as when I got in.

My makeup had melted in the shower and my hair was more matted. I found a single clean washcloth and scrubbed at my face until I looked more human and less raccoon-like.

After some searching, I found a cheap plastic comb and began working on my hair. Once it was smooth down to the nape of my neck, I gathered the rest of the poofy mess up, and tied it back with the hair tie I kept on my wrist. I still looked rough, but good enough for walking home without creating a scene.

I felt lightheaded and sat down on the edge of the tub. I cupped a few handfuls of cool water from the sink and sipped. I didn’t want to go back out into the bedroom. I couldn’t face him after what he did to me. Once again, I was embarrassed. Not for drinking too much, but for being vulnerable. I hated not being in control. I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

To my surprise, the room was empty. In the spot where I had slept was a plate of toast and bacon. There was a sports drink on the bedside table. The thought of eating anything repulsed me, but I knew it was the best way to get over a hangover.

Maybe it would give me the energy to walk back to my dorm. I nibbled at the toast, drying my mouth to the point where I could hardly swallow. I cracked open the drink and took a few small sips. I paused, waiting to make sure it would stay down. When it did, it took a few more slow, small bites.

I was about halfway done with my plate when Martin entered the room. So much for a stealthy exit.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“I don’t know what your confusion is. You aren’t the one who doesn’t remember anything,” I fired back.

“I can tell you everything about last night, if you’ll just listen to me.”

“Sure, I bet you’ll twist facts so you come off as the hero again.”

“What do you think happened?” he asked, looking hurt.

“I woke up in your bed, and both of us were practically naked. I don’t remember anything, so that means I was extremely drunk. I think I can put two and two together.”

“Never go into detective work,” he scowled. “Would you like me to tell you what really happened?”

I was silent. I didn’t really want to hear it. I grabbed my shoes and purse and tried the door handle. It was locked.

“This is sick,” I yelled. “Locking me in here, for what?”

“I didn’t lock it,” he said, genuinely confused.

He tried opening the door, but there was something in the way. He called Reg on his cell and ask him to help us.

“There’s something wrong with my door, Reg. Can you try to open it from the outside?” he asked.

“Well, um,” Reg stuttered. “We kinda barricaded the door.”

“You what?”

Reg hung up and I heard Sasha’s voice booming from the other side of the door.

“We’ve all had enough of your bickering. It’s time you work things out. When everything is fixed, we’ll let you out.”

I was furious. I just wanted to go home and nurse this hangover in peace and quiet.

“Now that we’re stuck here,” he said a little softer. “I’m going to tell you the facts. You got really drunk and came onto me. Don’t get me wrong; I was thrilled when you motioned me into my room.

We kissed, but I could tell that you were too drunk to do anything else. You took off my shirt and then you took off your own clothes. I was going to try to sober you up, but you passed out. That’s it.”

“If that’s everything that happened,” I started. “Then how can you call it ‘one of the best nights of your life’?”

He blushed.

“It’s not often that you get to share your bed with the captain of the cheerleading team.”

I scoffed and pounded on the door. “We figured things out,” I yelled to the door. “I figured out that Martin is an ass. You can let me out now.”

“Nice try,” Sasha answered. “The fact that we can still hear shouting isn’t a good sign.”

I stomped back over to the bed and finished my cold breakfast. I was starting to feel a little better physically, but I was still in a horrendous mood.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” he said to me.

“Like what?”

“You’re so incredibly stubborn. Why can’t we discuss this like rational human beings?”

“Because nothing I say ever matters,” I retorted.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Maybe when I get out, you’ll be ready to talk about this.”

“We’ll see,” I mumbled under my breath. There was nothing more to talk about. I tried to be friends with him, and this is what I got. I was locked in a room with a guy that continued to cause problems for me. I wanted out, out of this room, out of this “friendship”, out from under my parent’s control.

Since there was nothing else for me to do with Martin in the bathroom, I slid under the covers to rest my eyes. I just wanted a few minutes of darkness and silence so I could think.