You're Supposed to Hate Me

Chapter 7

Travis

One thing I always try to avoid is parties. I always get shit faced drunk, and in the morning I always feel like my father.

I've told Phillip this, but he's so goddamn stubborn and always says that I need to "live a little".

Phillip called me, saying I should come over for the weekend. So, after my father called his parents and they said it'd be fine, he let me go.

Except, now I'm standing in front of his house, and I can barely hear the music from the inside.

Even though he acted like a total fucking idiot sometimes, he also knew when to be smart. Because the music couldn't be heard from outside unless you were walking by his house, but it would definitely be heard from the inside.

I slowly walk up to his house, opening the door and entering. Music instantly filled my ears, along with the intoxicating smell of alcohol.

I walk into the living room, and Phillip instantly finds me as if he could feel my presence in his packed house, walking over to me with two red plastic cups in his hands. "Glad you showed, Travy!" Phillip grins, shoving a red cup into my hand.

I scowl at him, my eyes narrowing. "Phillip..." I warn and I attempt to shove the cup back into his hand, but he backs away, disappearing into the crowd.

I fucking hate people with blue hair.

~~~

The whole night was a blur, because I got shit faced drunk, like I knew I would.

I got so drunk I didn't even know someone took me home. Not to my home, but their home. I don't know when it happened or why, but when I woke up at 4 in the morning, I wasn't in Phillip's house.

I didn't even care, because I felt the vomit creeping up my throat so I flung out of the bed, walking out and into the next door, which I was glad was the bathroom.

I lift the toilet seat, gagging as I throw up into the toilet, my nose running and my eyes glossing over with tears at the stench and taste of the vomit.

I drank way too much. I don't even know who's place I'm at. Anxiety creeps up my body as I start to wonder if they did anything to me. I was only wearing my pants, my shirt was off.

My shirt was off.

I flush the toilet and stare at myself in the mirror. Whoever took me to their place saw my back. There's no way they didn't.

I turn the sink faucet on, splashing my face with cold water. I turn it off, and my heart starts pounding as I hear footsteps moving towards the closed bathroom door.

A soft knock against the door. "Travis?"

Shit.

I swing the door open, already glaring down at him. Fucking Sal Fisher.

"Why am I here?" I shout at him, my breathing rapid. Of all people, he saw my back.

"Are you okay?" He ignores my question, by following it up with another question.

"Fuck you." I sneer, my nose scrunching as I stare down at him.

He puts his hands up as if he was giving up. "Alright, fine. I only brought you here because some girl was trying to get into your pants. That's why your shirt is gone." He backs away from me, walking away.

I follow him out of the bathroom, and he was in the kitchen. He wasn't even mentioning anything about my scars, and it calmed me, just a bit.

Then it dawns on me about what he said. I drag my hands down my face as I groan. I'm never going to one of Phillip's parties again.

Sal walks back over to me, a cup in his hand. "Take it, I'll be back." He then walks away again once I take the cup. I watch as he disappears into the bathroom, then reappears after I heard a cabinet shut.

"Hold out your hand." He looks up at me, his hand reached out, waiting for me to hold out mine. So, I eventually reach out my hand.

He places aspirin in the palm of my hand before stepping away from me.

I suddenly feel the pounding in my head, and I instantly place the aspirin in my mouth, swallowing it with the water he gave me.

It takes a moment for my head to calm down, but once it does I actually look around. His apartment wasn't dirty or messy, and it actually looked quite cozy.

I notice an orange cat laying on the couch, curled up comfortably in a ball.

"I know I should've just took you to Phillip, but I couldn't find him, so I just dragged you here." Sal's voice was raspy from waking up only 10 minutes ago. (Woke up when Travis woke up)

I look at him, and I realize his hair was down. I've never seen him with his hair down. He looked... He looked what?

I swallow, my tongue licking my now suddenly dry lips. "Thanks..." I mumble under my breath, looking away from him.