Gab was aware of the pounding headache before anything else. She raised her eyelids as slightly as possible. She was on the floor. Somewhere. A bedroom. Where was she again? Then she became aware of an arm draped over her … a masculine arm covered in blonde hairs. Shock reared but was quelled quickly by the headache and the heaviness and the sense of relief that it was to be lying down somewhere—anywhere. Then she realised her jeans were scrunched up next to her head, which seemed odd, when she should have been wearing them …
An intensely sick feeling filled her that was only partly due to the uncharacteristic amount of alcohol she had ingested the night before. But, as with all her feelings these days, it was soon accompanied by the opposite sensation, which was a sense of surrender. It was nothingness and numbness. Apathy. Who cared? She was sick of monitoring her every move with way too much attention. She was sick of regulating everything she said and everything she did, and she wasn’t responsible for Jack anymore. She was free. She could do what she wanted. And her mum was not there. Gab was an adult. It was an intoxicating realisation—and it wasn’t an intoxication that would land her with a throbbing headache.
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As soon as her eyes had semi-adjusted to the light, Gab moved Robbie’s arm and rolled over. A sheet was tangled around their legs and Robbie was in his boxer shorts. Gab looked for a moment at him, half mesmerised by his difference to herself, and part afraid. What exactly had happened? She had no idea, but she knew that the evidence pointed to something not quite in line with her life plan. She was afraid to think about it. She didn’t want to know. She pulled her jeans on. Her phone was still in her jean’s pocket. Thank God. 5:17am. Where was Freya? The last thing she remembered was seeing her with a bunch of her friends, moving out into the courtyard so they didn’t have to yell so loudly over the music.
Gab padded down the stairs that presented themselves as she left the bedroom and found her way back to the lounge. People were strewn about on the floor and on couches, but she couldn’t see Freya. Oh well, she thought. It was time to go home.