Part of me knew it wasn’t fair to compare her to him. But I hurt so I couldn’t think much beyond that.
“You stink. You need a shower,” Anna griped, walking into my bedroom and opening the curtains.
I squinted in the late afternoon light. I hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.
“Don’t you have a game? You need to get to the stadium.”
“Mum’s coming up tomorrow. She’s worried about you. So am I. This is getting ridiculous, Luke. Morgan’s been gone for weeks, isn’t it time you snapped out of it?” She picked up the empty vodka bottle from my bedside table and threw it in the rubbish. “Sort your shit out.”
“Fuck off, Anna. I don’t need your lectures,” I grumbled. I needed to piss. She was right, I smelled horrible.
Last night was a blur. I remembered being at the club. There were women. Two of them, maybe. We were doing shots. Too many shots. Then we were hooking up in the toilets.
Then I was freaking out. I remembered that part. Because we were in the toilet. And that’s where I had first met Morgan. Not in that particular toilet, justatoilet.
They got angry and left and I was pretty sure I had sobbed like a bitch until I was able to make my way out of the club.
I must have gotten a cab home. I didn’t remember that part.
“You’re depressed. Maybe you should talk to someone,” Anna suggested outside the bathroom.
“I’m not depressed. I’m doing great. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was in a right state. I hadn’t shaved in god knows how long. My hair had started to grow out and stuck out all over my head. I was a fucking mess.
I flushed the toilet and slowly made my way back to my bedroom. Anna was picking up clothes off the floor. She held out a T-shirt I was pretty sure I had puked on last night. “This is disgusting. You need to clean yourself up and get to the damn stadium.”
Blah. Blah. Blah.
I collapsed back on the bed, my head pounding. I was hungover. And my heart hurt. I knew what she was saying was reasonable.
But I didn’t want reasonable.
But I didn’t want to do anything but lie in bed and drink the past six weeks away.
Six weeks.
That’s all it took for my life to collapse.
“If you miss her so much, call her. Stop being such a whiny minge.”
“Shut up, will you?” I groaned.
“I know you said you ended things because she wasn’t coming back, that she had to stay in the states with her mother. But why? Couldn’t you make a long distance thing work? I thought you loved her. You were happy.”
“We were happy, goddamn it! Now mind your own fucking business!” I shouted.
“Snap out of it, brother, you’re being a bloody drama queen—”
“She left. She’s not coming back. She left me,” I mumbled.
Anna threw the vomit covered shirt at my face. “You’re an arsehole, Lucas Bradley. She had to stay to take care of her mother and you’re over here whining that she left you. I know you have some serious abandonment issues because of Dad—”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this. It has nothing to do with that wank stain.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re being a child. About Morgan. About football. About everything. Grow the hell up and be a man already. No one has patience for this woe’ is me bollocks.”
She lifted up my overflowing hamper of dirty clothes. “I’m doing your laundry just this once because I can smell them from the hallway. But you need to get your act together. And fast.” She left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind her.
I looked at the time. I should have been at the stadium an hour ago.
