Clara Carter

"Who the hell are you?"

The familiar sound makes me squirm in Stefan's arms. The dizziness and headache that are increasing by the second aren't helping me understand what's going on. It was a mistake to drink too much. I shouldn't have done it.

I didn't ask Stefan to look so good in his white tee and dark jeans and to give me seductive stares. I was trying everything I could to stay off his radar before doing anything I'd later regret. But, being me, I went ahead and kissed him.

And man, was I wrong to back away.

I'm not sure what was going through my head when I interrupted the kiss. I cursed myself for dishonoring such a passionate kiss.

Never in my entire life has someone kissed me with such ferocity. His arms, I might say, are so strong that they kept me in position the entire time.

I can feel his abs through his tee right now as I'm so close to him for my own good.

When does he work out?

My eyes remain closed due to the inevitable blinding headache. All I want is to be in my darling, dear bed.

My grasp on Stefan's jacket begins to loosen, and I nearly slip off his arm.

"Hey, Clara," This time, I recognize the voice. Christopher. What is he doing here?

Oh, I failed to acknowledge that he is my brother and that we share the same parents and home. I squint at him, attempting to keep my eyes open while blinking.

I've got two brothers?! What's more, they're twins?! Fuck this alcohol!

"You okay?" Stefan's voice demands my un-focusable attention. My hazy gaze shifts to him. The first thing that comes in direct contact with my eyes is his lips, which I was kissing just a few minutes ago.

I giggle and giggle and then giggle some more as I recall his frustrated frown as I backed away when we kissed.

He kissed me, and I loved it. I loved how our lips and tongues perfectly tangled with one other. It sent shivers up and down my spine. It was incredible to see him lose control over one kiss.

"Please take her to her room. The last room on your left." Christopher says, pointing upstairs.

I close my eyes once again as I feel myself moving without even walking. That's the most terrifying thing I've ever noticed when I've had too much to drink.

As his hold on my bare legs tightens, I hug Stefan and whine. I hear a doorknob open and am promptly put on a soft, comfortable bed. For its gentleness, I hum.

I then cough uncontrollably and jump to my feet, clutching my chest.

And again, all I see is his lips. When I take the glass from his hands, I meet his eyes—those beautiful hazels.

He has the most stunning eyes I've ever seen. If there is a 'sexy eyes' competition, Stefan can serve as one of the judges.

The glass unexpectedly falls out of my hands after a few sips. It spills all of the water on my neck and then my shoulders.

It spills all of the water on my neck and then my shoulders. Now this, just added to my clumsiest-things-I-did list on the 999th number.

The dress begins to soak up the water and spread it all over my upper body, causing me to shudder. "You're so careless when you're drunk." Stefan murmurs.

But all I can hear right now is Ray shouting, "You fucking ruined my favorite dress?!"

I recall her telling me how much she adores this dress and how she wishes I would wear it since she believes it will enhance my already flawless body. Bullshit.

This clothing was causing me a great amount of anxiety. I was worried the whole time that it would slide off my boobs. But it didn't. Ray was the one who made sure I was carrying it properly.

Prepare to hear her talk about how much she loves this dress, Clara.

I grumble, slump back on my bed, and close my eyes, ready to sleep.

"Well, sorry for this." That was the last thing I heard before passing out.

Hearing a dreadful sound, I scramble to my senses. As the sunshine from my balcony hits my face, I cringe.

A sudden throb in my head causes me to fall off of my bed and land on my buttocks. The ideal way to start the day!

I try to stop the aching by pulling my hair, but it doesn't help. "Why do I drink so much?" I ask myself.

On my phone, the obnoxious music that I use as an alarm continues to play. I had just yanked the phone from the nightstand and was going to toss it when I notice a few messages from our 'Daenerys's Dragons' chat group.

Tyler the SmartyPants: Where tf are you?

Ray the BeautyBee: Club, didn't I tell you?

Tyler the SmartyPants: Not you! Clara.

Ray the BeautyBee: Oh, she went home with Stefan.

Tyler the SmartPants: Wtf?!

Ray the BeautyBee: You heard it, Ty. Someone's gonna pop the cherries tonight ;)

These dumbasses couldn't just call than texting? 

In my mind, last night flashes like a fast-forwarded movie. I was drunk and I had kissed the hell out of Stefan. The Stefan Peirce—the fucker who fucked with my brain on his first day. But also the gentleman who brought me home.

After reading Ray's text message, I double-check that I'm back in my room. I sigh as I clearly remember my talk with Ray last night about losing my V-card. I know, it's a bit of a mess.

Her reaction when she found out I was still a virgin was hilarious. I was thrilled on my 18th birthday, but how wrong I was after meeting jerk boyfriends.

Last night, I decided to give up my virginity. I thought that if I got drunk, I wouldn't have to deal with the pain that Ray complained about. She stated that it hurts like crazy and that she couldn't walk properly that day.

My initial response to what she said was to laugh. I couldn't and still can't believe how one cannot walk after having sex for the first time. So I just shrugged it off and didn't give it any thought. But, just to make sure, I decided to get drunk last night.

It was purely coincidental that my gaze fell on Stefan while I was staring at the boys with whom I can finally do it. I guess.

Only by getting up and sitting does the throbbing in my head subside. My thoughts wander back to the kiss I shared with Stefan as I tuck my hair into a bun.

But I don't vaguely remember it being really enjoyable. I also have no recollection of sleeping with him.

I discover the one piece I wore to the party, which is propped up on a chair.

I take a look at what I'm wearing right now. Shorts and a grey crop top. However, I did not wear this to the party, and I do not believe I changed my clothes. So, if Stefan did it, I'm not going to be furious, am I?

I start to feel a little relieved that there's a chance I slept with Stefan. It would have been a fantastic first experience!

But why do I have no memory of anything like that? I feel nauseated as I force my poor brain to think much. I jog towards the bathroom, my mouth agape. I throw up after opening the toilet seat. Hangovers are the worst.

I get up and rinse my mouth and face with water. Then in the mirror, I examine myself. I look horrible. Like a zombie turned on an after-party. Dark circles covered a good amount of my face below my eyes, hair scattered all over the place. Lipstick and eye make-up have been ruined. I'm a freaking disaster.

How grateful I am to learn that Stefan did not see me this way.

I'm not sure when I started caring about him.

"Jeez," Christopher exclaims, "that's the worst hangover look I've ever seen you in." I glare at him in the mirror as he leans against the door frame. I roll my eyebrows and wash my face once more.

"Who was the guy who dropped you home last night?" 

I cross my arms across my chest and give him a wry grin. "Why should I tell you?"

He walks in and strikes a stance in front of me, pointing a finger at me, his nose flaring, and he refrains from yelling at me. If this had happened a few years ago, when I was a naïve and innocent girl, he would not have cared and would have scolded me.

Looking at his brotherly instincts makes me grin. "Rather than running after a zombie like you, I want to advise him to find a girl for himself."

My mouth is wide open. For anyway, there's nothing new in it. I've heard his pathetic retort insults a thousand times. 

"Fuck you." I utter every syllable with a one-second gap and shove him away.

"I would have stepped aside anyhow due to your puke-smelling breath," he replies, covering his nose.

"Do you still want to know who was the guy?" I ask, advancing towards him with my mouth open and hands on my hips. He walks out of the bathroom, shaking his head.

I pat my back for wining against my brother and then turn around to face the mirror again. 

"You fucking zombie," I mutter to myself as I shut the door behind me. I turn on the shower and wait for it to warm up enough for me to enter.

Should I thank Stefan for safely getting me home? Of course, no thanks for changing my clothes without permission, even if I did want to see his face while he changed me out of the dress.