Page 84 of Please Don't Leave Me

Gathering her hair up on top of her head, I give my best attempt at a bun. It's clearly awful. She knows that without even having to see it, and she laughs at me.

"Hey, quit making fun of me. It's just meantto keep your hair out of the toilet; it doesn't need to look great." I attempt it again, and it's a little better.

She never ends up throwing up, which is a pleasant surprise. I give her a pair of my shorts and a shirt to change into since I'm assuming she doesn't want to sleep in her dress.

I get her all tucked into the guest bed with a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand for whenever she wakes up. As I'm about to leave, she stops me by grabbing my wrist. "Thank you."

"Of course." I start to leave again, but she keeps her hold on me.

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?" I know which one she's referring to, but I'm hoping I'm wrong.

"Why you stopped talking to me."

"Let's talk about that in the morning. I'm guessing sober you will prefer that."

Her eyebrows scrunch together like she’s contemplating it. "Mmmmmmmmm, fine."

"Goodnight, Lou."

"Night."

I walk back to my room and shutthe door. This night took a completely unexpected turn, and now I have a girl–who I once really liked but fucked it up with–in my house.

I brush my teeth and crawl into bed, exhausted. I plug my phone in and set it on my nightstand. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a while, wondering what I'm going to tell Lou when she asks again tomorrow. I guess the only right answer is to tell her the truth. But how much detail do I go into?

This is likely just a chance encounter with Lou, but if, for some reason, the universe is handing me a second chance with her, I don't want to screw it up.

Chapter Twenty-Six

LOUISA

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping, which is unusual since my apartment is downtown. Typically, I only hear pigeons outside my window.

I rub my eyes and reach over to my nightstand to grab my phone. I feel around for it and bump into a glass, weird. I blink a few more times and realize I'm not in my room.

Fuck. Where am I?

I start to panic and look for my phone. It's plugged in next to a glass of water and some pills. I notice a sticky note on top of my phone that reads, 'B knows where you are. Text me when you're up. - Sam'.

I look around and see that I'm in a small bedroom that's very tidy and decorated in warm, neutral tones. I'm in a queen-size bed, and I can't tell if the other side has been slept in or if I just messed up the sheets while sleeping.

So many questions race through my mind. Is this Sam's room? Did he sleep in here with me? Where is he? How the hell did I get here?

I look over at the nightstand again, pick up the glass of water, and take the pills. I only have a slight headache, which is shocking since I don't remember most of the night. Sam must have taken care of me and made sure I was hydrated before I fell asleep. I unlock my phone to read through my messages and look at my call history.

After piecing everything together, I guess that I called Sam while very drunk, and he came to pick me up. My keys were missing, so he brought me here, keeping B updated every step of the way.

I get out of bed and realize that I'm wearing an oversized shirt and shorts that are staying around my waist only due to the tightened and knotted drawstrings. I unplug my phone and walk to the door. I need to find a bathroom; my bladder is so full right now. I step out into the hallway and look around. I find the bathroom, relieve myself, and brush my teeth with a toothbrush he left out for me before going back out into the hallway.

I hear music playing from somewhere, so I follow it to the kitchen, where I find Sam making breakfast. He doesn't hear me walk in, so I clear my throat.

"Morning."

He whips around, slightly startled by my silent entrance. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly, not too bad. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I'm really sorry I called you."

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