I gaze up at the high ceilings of Ollie's dark room waiting for Jeremy to answer.

I roll over onto my stomach leaving my shins and feet hanging off the side of the bed and huff a loud long sigh, suddenly bored with the idea of talking to Jeremy when good drinks and all my new friends are downstairs.

"Muriel, hi." Jeremy finally answers.

"Hi Jeburty! I mean, what? I mean Jeremy!" I start laughing and roll onto my back again.

I just called my boyfriend since the age of 19 by a mixture of Jeremy and Baby. Hilarious.

There's silence on his end and I check my screen to be sure I haven't hung up on him by accident.

"Where are you? I need to talk to you about something important... Why is it so loud?"

"I'm at a party." I start playing with the ends of my curled hair wondering what Ollie's up to downstairs.

"You're...at a party? Are you drinking?"

"Noooooo-yuuusss..." I sit up onto my elbows and scowl at the fact he's making me feel like I'm doing something I shouldn't, "excuse me, actually I am drinking . A lot, Mr. Jeburty."

My eyes snap from where I'm glaring to Ollie stepping inside his room with a red cup in his hands.

"Shit, sorry-." He says but then stumbles forward from getting caught up on a pair of pants on the floor, flinging most of the contents across his room.

I burst into laughter and feel my eyes water with tears at the sight of this long tall man nearly falling flat on his face because of the state of his room.

"Fuck." He collects himself smirking and peeks into his now empty cup.

"Muriel? What is going on?"

"Oh my gosh, Ollie just nearly face planted." I struggle to get the words out because I'm still laughing.

"Who are you talking to?" Ollie asks me gesturing towards the phone just as Jeremy says something.

"Jeremy." I tell him as he takes a seat next to me on his bed.

"Muriel, how drunk are you? What are you even doing drinking on a Thursday?"

"I'm pretty drunk." I chuckle and watch as Ollie downs the small remainder of his drink.

"Is Oliver drunk? Who else is there?"

"Jeez, relax. Maggie is here somewhere-."

"Nope, she left." Ollie chimes and falls. back onto his back with his palms resting on his pecks.

"She left? Wait, what do you mean?" I ask him knowing she was supposed to be my ride home...well my Uber partner...

"Muriel! I'm trying to talk to you." Jeremy snaps loudly in my ear.

"God, what? What is it, Jeburty?"

Ollie chuckles from behind me, the sound of his deep laugh causes me to smile as Jeremy lays into me.

"I'm trying, Mur. I really am. You are just making this so difficult. You're not even yourself anymore. Since when do you drop your classes? Since when do you run away from your problems? Since when do you drink?"

I roll my eyes and sigh loudly into the phone.

"Why do I feel like I'm talking to Henry right now?" I wonder aloud.

"Your father has been worried sick about you, the least you could do is return his calls. He's called your professors to make sure they don't drop you from their classes, he's made sure your internship at the hospital knows you've had a family emergency and won't be back for a few weeks.-"

"Uggggh, I'm bored." I say irritated that I can practically hear my dad's voice coming through the phone line.

"You know what, call me in the morning. I'm not dealing with you in this immature state."

I scoff loudly, "I'm not calling you. I said I needed a break and you've been pestering me since the second I left Mew York. Say what you have to say."

"Fine. I made a mistake last night. Karen came over and things got a little out of hand."

Wait, am I hearing this right?

"I swear I didn't sleep with her, Muriel. I've just been so stressed out with you and work...and we haven't even been intimate in nearly three months. I've just had a lot on my plate."

"If you didn't sleep with her what did you do?" I ask. Ollie sits up behind me and I feel his hot gaze on the side of my face.

"We...we fooled around...I'm so sorry, the second it happened I regretted it. It's just everything keeps piling up with us. School, work, all your humanitarian trips-."

"Its been a year since I've been away. How the hell is this a factor in your cheating? Hang on...this isn't my fault."

"No, I'm not blaming you I-."

"It sure sounds like it. My school, my internship, my mission trips...me, me, me. I'm going to hang up now, Jeremy. You can tell Henry he doesn't need to do any favors for me."

Jeremy argues but I end the call quickly and toss my phone to the side near the pillow and wait.

....I'm waiting for the tears to come...

...where are they? I don't feel anything.

"You alright, Murry?" Ollie asks concerned.

"Yeah...I'm good." I shrug and want another whiskey and coke.

"What happened?"

"I guess I got cheated on..." I half laugh never thinking I'd ever say those words. I thought Jeremy was it for me. He's smart, independent,  works for the same law firm as my dad, caring, and good looking. He was the right fit. An excellent match for me on paper.

"I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it?" Ollie asks reaching in front of me opening his bed side table grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a blue lighter.

I should want to talk about it, right?

I should be yelling or crying right now...but it's like someone just told me tomorrow is Monday, or that there was a really good episode of Jeopardy on last night.

"I guess...he...I don't even know right now?" I laugh again still not comprehending the sudden turn my life just took tonight.

Ollie remains silent waiting for me to gather my jumbled thoughts. Something he's always been good at.

"He said he's been overwhelmed by me... I guess my time at school, and the internship and my trips have affected him. He's never once hinted that these things have bothered him before."

"You haven't been on a trip in a while though." He packs the cigarettes into the palm of his hand.

"I know...it's like he was just naming off excuses and trying to blame his cheating on me." I watch as Ollie retrieves a cigarette from the pack and places it between his folded full lips. "And he's upset we haven't been intimate...lately."

I don't know why I've offered that bit of information, and I'm instantly aware of the tensed muscles in Ollie's neck and the slight hitch as he tries to light the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"Oh." He mumbles then manages to light the end of the stick.

"Sorry, TMI." I laugh nervously and smile when he shrugs and shakes his head.

"So..." Ollie removes the cigarette from his mouth and blows the smoke away from over his shoulder, "Murry, what are you going to do? With everything?"

"Not a friggin' clue, Ollie."

"That's very unlike you." He half laughs and takes another drag from the cigarette.

I sit up and reach over grabbing the foriegn object from his mouth and set it between my lips and inhale.

The thick smoke fills my mouth and throat and instantly I regret it and start hacking holding the cigarette back towards him. "What the fuck! Why would you do that?" He pats my back between my shoulder blades as I continue to cough violently. "You are not a smoker, not even a little bit." He laughs and set the cigarette between his lips again and rubs my back as I begin to collect myself.

That was stupid.

"No, but I've never tried it." My voice is hoarse and my throat itchy.

"Naughty girl." He says with a grin.

Yes, that was bad...but it felt good regardless of the immediate negative aftermath.

"I need to take a shot." I say standing and looking down at him.

He removes the cigarette to speak, "Then let's take a shot."

In the kitchen I stand watching him pour tequila into two separate shot glasses. Ollie hands me one and then takes the next one with a breathtaking careless smile and heavy glazed eyes. He throws the shot back quickly, swallowing it in one gulp.

"Hey! What the heck!" I swat and then squeeze his bulky shoulder with my hand.

"What?" He laughs wiping his shining lips with his knuckles, then wraps his arm around my neck.

"This is my first ever shot and you just messed it up."

He laughs and immidiatly begins filling the shot glass again with his free hand, "Then let's do this proper. What would you like to cheers to Madame."

I contemplate it for a moment then a smile spreads across my lips, "To not giving a fuck."

Ollie laughs and clinks his glass to mine still with his heavy arm resting around my neck, "To not giving a flying fuck."

We both shoot it back. The liquid goes down like water. It's slightly warm, but otherwise not bad.

I really don't know what the fuss is all about with this drinking thing.

"That was fun! Let's do another!" I lean into him and slam my shot glass on the counter. He laughs a goofy laugh and fills both shot glasses again. We cheers, then drink them down in a large gulp.

"Oll! Mur! Come over here! We need two more players for beer pong!" Stewart calls to us from the living area where a fold out table has been errected and cups have been lined on either edge in the shape of triangles.

"I'm shit at beer pong, mate." Ollie says, however I'm living on the edge tonight.

"I've never played, we're doing it." I grab his hand, slightly stumbling into him a little and then we both walk over slightly wobbling this way and that.

Turns out, I'm basically a God at beer pong. Ollie sucks and I'm carrying the weight of our team on my shoulders alone. However, the more cups I hit the more unclear they become.

And soon, the cups act like they are on an invisible wheel going around and around.

Ollie is trash mouthing Stewart across the table when my stomach cramps and then churns.

"Oh." I put a hand to my stomach and then feel the surge of everything coming right up my esophagus.

Oh

I make a b-line for the down stairs bathroom and shove open the door, dropping to my knees hurling into the toilet. I lurch so hard that my ab muscles ache, and the sounds my loud gagging is making I'm sure is heard through the entire house.

"Woah! Murry, you okay!" Ollie's voice appears behind me but I shoo him away with my hand not wanting him to see or smell everything that's coming up.

My watering eyes peek open and I realize I'm puking into a filthy toilet, the sight of it makes me heave again and even more vomit comes up.

My hair is lifted from my sweating neck and pulled away from the toilet as I grab the disgusting toilet bowl tightly as the liquid continues to come up.

"Fuck, girl. Get it all out."

I sit back breathing hard feeling the room spinning.

"I need a tooth brush...and hand sanitizer." I demand, then go right back to the toilet as my stomach clenches again.

When I come to, it feels like someone has taken a scalpel and jammed it into my brain, then gave it a scramble.

I groan loudly, and grab my throbbing head unable to focus on anything but the pounding in my head.

This isn't worth it. This is perhaps the worst idea I've ever had.

I'm never drinking again.

I slowly open one eye and immidiatly regret it. The light assaults my eyes and the pain in my head doubles. I feel around and pull the thick blankets up over my head to keep the light out and groan again.

Wait...where am I?

I pull the blankets back and look around the room...Ollie's room.

Panic sweeps through me and I look to the other side of the bed, but then relax when it's empty.

I look under the blankets and sigh loudly in relief when all my clothes are one. However, one of my boobs is hanging out the side while the strap of the gold top has some how managed to fit between my breasts.

I fix the shirt and then roll to my side wanting to slap myself in the face for drinking so much last night. My mouth is so dry and I've never had a worse headache in my life. I swallow, struggling with the same paper in my throat and then lift the blankets looking to the en suite door where water from the faucet would be waiting for me.

I toss the blankets off and slowly climb out of bed, the movement causing the headache to throb even more. My bare feet find the cold ground and I take a step, stepping on a mound of something. The object moans and rolls and I trip and fall straight to the hard floor. My hands slap loudly and I look behind me at Ollie rubbing his chest still half asleep with one eye open and his dark hair standing up on one side.

"Why are you on the floor." I growl laying back to the ground and cover my eyes with my hand, unable to move from the throbbing between my ears.

"Why are you walking on me?" He asks with a thick voice.

"I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't think there would be a body laying on the floor."

"I couldn't leave you by yourself last night. You could've choked on your vomit in your sleep."

This is so embarrassing.

It takes every ounce of energy to stand and stalk slowly to the bathroom where I drink from the faucet like it's a trowel for live stock.

I guzzle the water, gulping it down like I've been deprived of water for months.

"Denise is bringing you some clothes and coffee. Do you need tylenol?" Ollie walks in and brushes next to me opening the medicine cabinet to retrieve the pain medication.

My eyes drop to his black boxers in the mirror and my cheeks and chest flush. "Yes, please." I take the pills and drink from the faucet again wanting more than anything to just go back into my bed.

"Do you want a shower? Or...I can make you something to eat?" He asks me.

The thought of food causes my stomach to roll and I just shake my head.

"I just need my phone so I can get an Uber back to your parents."

"Shower. You'll feel better. I'll get you an uber lined up after Denise brings your things.

The thought of showering in his shower is weird...and I bite my lip nervously.

"The towels are there," He opens the cabinet under the sink, "I'll leave your stuff on the counter."

He leaves closing the door to leave me in his bathroom. I look to my hot-mess of a reflection. My eye makeup is smeared beneath both eyes and half of the foundation is gone around my mouth. My hair is everywhere and tangled in a rat's nest at the nape of my neck and I'm pale as a ghost.

I needed a shower. So I remove my clothes and start the water trying to avoid the thoughts of him in here. The hot water helps releave the pressure in my head and sooths my aching muscles. I wash my face of the makeup and use Ollie's fancy shampoo and conditioner that uniquely smell like him.

By the time I finish and grab the hanging towel I see my clothes and my glasses case has been placed on the sink counter close to the door.

I dress into my plain white underwear and white bra then pull on the comfortable beige sweats and sweatshirt. After I towel dry my hair I run my fingers through it in an attempt to get the tangles out.

I hear Ollie's voice as well as a womans and step out, feeling incredibly uncomfortable I just stayed the night in his bed and just showered in his shower and now this Denise woman is going to know it.

Ollie is lounging in his bed sipping from a to-go coffee cup in grey sweat pants. "Good morning, darling." A middle aged Asian woman crosses the room with an extended hand. She's tall and thin and gorgeous with a sweet smile. "I'm Denise, Ollie's manager. I see you two had a pretty good night."

"Hi." I smile unsure what to say, really. "Nice to meet you Denise. Thank you for grabbing my things."

"Of course, it was my pleasure." She looks to Ollie and then back to me.

"Uh, I'm just going to go now." I say grabbing my phone from the nightstand.

"Before you go, Muriel. We need to discuss...a little hiccup from last night."

"Denise, please don't frighten her."

"Oliver, it's best to face this sort of thing head on. If it gets ignored then it's going to blow up in her and your face."

If I wasn't uncomfortable before, I sure as am now.

"I'm confused? We're friends. That's all?" I say wondering if Denise thinks Ollie and I had been intimate last night.

"Yes, I know that. But the internet doesn't. And as far as they know a snapchat was taken last night with you and Oliver looking rather cozy in the kitchen."

My mind is throbbing and lagging trying to understand what she is saying.

"You may want to set your Instagram to private as well as any other social media accounts."

I flip my phone over and turn it on. Sure enough the small notification box on the Instagram box reads 99+ .

Why? Why am I having to have to deal with this ontop of everything else right now?

How are we doing? Poor Muriel thought she was having a great time with the alcohol.

Any theories as to what is going on with Ollie?

Thoughts on him?

Thanks for reading!