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After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)


chapter seventy-seven


Do you want another cup of coffee?” she asks. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

“No, I know how to get rid of a hangover. I’ve had plenty,” I growl.

Carly rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a dick. I was just asking.”

“Stop talking.” I rub my temples. Her voice is annoying as hell.

“Charming as ever, I see.” She laughs and leaves me alone in her small kitchen.

I’m a dumb-ass for even being here, but it’s not like I had another option. Yes, I did, I’m just trying to not take the blame for my overreaction. I was harsh on Tessa and said some pretty fucked-up things, and now here I am in Carly’s kitchen drinking fucking coffee this late in the afternoon.

“Do you need a ride back to your car?” she yells from the other room.

“Obviously,” I respond, and she walks into the kitchen wearing only a bra.

“You’re lucky that I brought your drunk ass home with me. My boyfriend will be arriving soon, so we need to go.” She slides her shirt over her head.

“You have a boyfriend? Nice.” This keeps getting better.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes. I do. It may be surprising to you that not everyone just wants an endless parade of fuck buddies.”

I almost tell her about Tessa, but I decide against it, since it’s none of her business. “I gotta piss first,” I tell her and walk toward the bathroom.

My head is pounding and I’m angry at myself for coming here. I should be at home . . . well, on campus. I hear my phone buzzing on the counter and snap back around.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” I bark at Carly, and she takes a step back.

“I’m not! Man, you weren’t this big of an asshole last night,” she remarks, but I ignore her.

I follow Carly to her car, my head pounding with each step against the concrete. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I shouldn’t have drunk at all. I look over at Carly as she rolls her window down and lights a cigarette.

How could she ever have been my type? She’s not wearing a seat belt. She puts makeup on at stoplights. Tessa is so different from her, from any of the girls I’ve ever been with.

As we’re driving back to the bar where I got shit-faced last night, I keep rereading the texts from Tessa, over and over again. This is terrible—she’s probably really worried. My head’s too foggy to think up a good excuse, so I just text her, I fell asleep in the car after drinking too much with Landon last night. Be home soon.

Something feels off, and I pause for a minute. But my whole brain is just rattled, so I hit send and watch the phone to see if she’s replying. Nothing.

Well, I can’t tell her about this, about staying at Carly’s house. She’ll never forgive me, she won’t even hear me out. I know she won’t. I can tell she’s getting tired of my shit lately. I know she is.