Page 103 of Dream On, Liar

She met my eyes again. “I was going to ask if you wanted water.”

“Oh.”

“You’re terrible at pretending you’re fine.”

“I am fine.” My stomach rolled.

She raised an eyebrow.

I closed my eyes. “Mostly.”

Thankfully, the flight landed before my body could decide to punish me further.

The hotel was busy when we arrived, filled with the usual chaos of players, staff, luggage and people trying to work out where they were supposed to be.

This time, when my stomach lurched again, I gave Raina one worried look before I made my way to a more suitable place.

I made it as far as the lobby bathroom, before the entirety of my breakfast made it’s way out of my body.

I knew saying yes to my father was a bad idea.

Only, I didn’t want him knowing that I had a massive hangover. Or how, after one spicy margarita had accidentally turned into doing tequila shots with Raina’s media team because I no longer wanted to feel like a guest with the people who were supposed to be a team.

Also, because I missed my best friend.

Me and Samyra had barely had a chance to talk properly in the last couple weeks, mostly conversing through the world of social media, with memes and relatable content as our mode of communication.

It felt strange, considering we’d spoken everyday—even with the time zone differences—seen each other as frequently too before both of our new roles took over our lives. Even when I’d worked for the women’s team, we’d found a way to break out of the work rut each night. Game nights had been for self care, but our breaks were for travelling around the city we’d landed in.

I had never been this isolated from my social life in a long long time. Maybe that was the reason my nightmares had become recurrent too. After Game nights, I returned to a quite hotel room with not a single person to speak to. I’d tried reading, distracting myself with have solo dance parties in my room, watching movies, but ultimately they all made me realise of the loneliness I felt in my heart, that I spent most nights thinking about what I’d found on my mother’s social media. Or the betrayal I felt when my father had taken Rihaan’s side, after making such progress.

All that did was turn my obsessive thoughts into the one nightmare I’d had since I was a kid.

When I was sure, I wasn’t about to hurl my insides again, I wiped my mouth with the toilet paper, flushed and left the stall.

I gripped the edge of the sink afterwards, breathing through my nose, forehead pressed against the cool marble. “Brilliant.”

My reflection looked as awful as I felt.

Pale. Blonde Hair everywhere. Eyes watering and red.

A woman who had made several poor life choices and was now being punished for all of them simultaneously.

The bathroom door opened.

“Maeve?”

Raina’s voice.

I shut my eyes. “Hey.”

My throat screamed as I spoke, finally searching for my bag that I thought I’d brought with me.

“Did you throw up?” She asked, and I only nodded, finally spotting her holding up the bag for me.

Pulling out my wash bag—the one I always carried on my shoulder bag on flights, thankfully—I pulled out my toothbrush and toothpaste.

Raina waited patiently as I rinsed my mouth. The sound of her fingers tapping against her phone screen was soft over my actions.