Just Another Reason I Could Never Forget You

I groaned loudly, rolling over with great effort to silence my ringing phone. I didn’t know what time it was, nor who was calling, just that the sound was making my head throb.
“What?” I whined pathetically.
“Jase?” I became slightly more alert at the sound of Marissa's voice, though still not opening my eyes for fear of the sunlight causing me more pain. I doubt I’d had the sense to close the curtains last night.
“Hi, Rissa,” I yawned, showing her my previous greeting had been tired confusion, not annoyance.
“What did you do last night?” she asked. I didn’t miss the accusatory tone, though I was confused by it.
“I had drinks with John and some others. Why?” I heard her groan and felt myself frowning, though I imagined it wasn’t fantastically clear given my eyes were still closed.
“Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”
“I don’t know what you think I did, but I doubt it.” I opened my eyes to glance around me, vaguely aware that John had brought me home last night, but seeing no sign of him. I began pulling myself out of bed in search of him. Surely it wasn’t that late in the day that he would have gone home already?
“Well, Alex just came round and kicked me out of my own living room to talk to Jack and I keep hearing your name, so I’m thinking you did something. He sounds annoyed.” I frowned again as I made it to my kitchen, seeing a slip of paper on the counter top.
“Hold on,” I muttered, glancing over the note, which was John telling me he’d gone to see his mother and would call me later. I glanced at the clock on my cooker, seeing it was around 1pm. This was all becoming clearer. Next, I looked through my call list from the night before, trying to prove I didn’t do what I was being accused of doing and yet... there he was. 11pm, a 30 minute call, Alex. I sighed, wanting to hit myself for being so stupid. What had I said? “I think I drunk dialled him.”
“Yeah, no shit,” she replied.
“What did I say?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue, Jase. I barely managed to hear ‘Holly’ before they shut me out.”
“Well, it can’t have been anything too stupid, because I was with John and he only left this morning,” I reasoned. The fact that John was my next incoming call around 11:30 didn’t quite back up my point, but I didn’t know what I’d said and I was very much happy with John, so I can’t see myself having made any sort of embarrassing admission to Alex. “Should I call him?” I asked, gnawing my lip. I finally understood what it was like to have been on Alex’s side of things, how he’d come to the conclusion that calling me to sort this out seemed like a good idea when I was too pissed to answer.
“Maybe wait for him to call you,” she said slowly. “You know as well as I do that the two of you are the most stubborn people in the world. If you wouldn’t forgive him, then he won’t forgive you.” I sighed, feeling the urge to kick my cabinets or stomp my feet like a child, but resisting. She was right: he had done this to me for the last two years and I hated when he called me the next morning, which I had always assumed was to apologise. I also hated when he called at night, but one could safely assume he didn’t appreciate my call last night, purely from the late hour alone.
“Fine, I won’t call, I’ll hang out in my apartment all alone like a fucking loser and watch TV,” I replied, attempting to not sound annoyed at Alex’s stubbornness (despite him not having done anything as yet), and yet turn the conversation away from him. I dwelled on him too much and it wasn’t healthy. I could only imagine how John felt, and that just made me feel like more of an asshole than I already did. I doubted he’d gone to see his mom just because.
“You do that,” she laughed, the last person to give me sympathy as always.
“Don’t be an asshole, it doesn’t suit you,” I joked back.
“Okay, fine, I won’t. Have you thought any more about coming back home any time soon?” I sighed again, louder than before and threw myself on the couch.
“Not really,” I admitted. “Besides, I don’t see a trip to Baltimore going down well with John right now.”
“Fuck him, just do it anyway.”
“Marissa!” I scolded laughingly.
“Okay, fine, don’t fuck him, or do, I don’t mind either way what the two of you get up to. I just mean that you need to do something for you and I miss your face, so come see me.”
“I don’t think your face is the problem.”
“Then we’ll blindfold you whenever Alex is around, it’s fine.” I laughed once more at her words, leaning back into the cushions and mulling it over.
“I still think I wanna do something literate,” I told her slowly. “But my dad might flip out if I didn’t at least take some sort of Psych class.”
“See, that I can help with,” she replied cheerfully, obviously happy that I was thinking about this. “I can show you the English department and you can sit in on one of my Psych classes. Just come for a couple of days before the next leg of tour.”
“Why do I feel like this is a god damn terrible idea?” I asked. I felt a churning in my gut, telling me I was going to be in deep fucking trouble if I agreed to do it. I mean, four weeks into a relationship, did people consult each other on big decisions or was I blowing my relationship out of proportion again?
“Because, frankly, I think you have finally realised you aren’t miraculously over Alex in the space of a week and that’s making you uncomfortable.”
“No,” I replied, quickly, determined not to admit that I had realised just that only a matter of days ago, but also knowing somehow that it wasn’t that causing my concern.
“Alright, then I don’t know, because John quite clearly loves you, so you can’t be worried about him.”
“John loving me has nothing to do with how much he’s going to flip out at me going across the country to stay either right next door to my ex or in his best friend’s house.” She grumbled incoherently, but I did hear the word ‘Alex’ thrown in and tutted. “Say it louder, Jones.”
“I’m just pointing out that Alex was on board when you wanted to move to the other side of the country.”
“Yeah, but Alex had didn’t have to worry about any ex-boyfriends and then he fucking threw it at all me with his guilty conscience, so that’s not really a valid argument, is it?”
“Fine, fine, fine,” she conceded. “Just break it to him gently and it’ll be all good.”

Notes

So, it's 6am, I have been up over an hour already and I wonder why I'm tired all the time.
Sorry I've been MIA, but, like I said, I'm tired constantly right now and my brain was not functioning long enough to write this in any sort of reasonable time frame.
It's also super filler-y, but it's for a reason, I promise.