Drake's hangover was gone - he'd locked himself in the bathroom until the vomiting and the pounding headache had subsided, then taken a shower and cleaned the dirt off his skin, as well as the dirty feeling he'd obtained at the party the day before. He was standing over the sink, surrounded by hair-care products and determinedly blow-drying his hair now, deep in thought. He didn't understand why Ronan had let him take things so far, then hadn't went as far herself. Sure, they'd gave him credit anyways, since it hadn't been he who had backed down, but it was still troubling him.

Girls. He didn't understand them. And he didn't know anyone that d-- wait a minute! Dalton! Dalton was really good with the ladies, he might know what Drake had done to offend Ronan. He left a message on the phone. "Why am I always in the bathroom when I call you... Anyways, I need chick advice. Come up?'

Drake hefted a random bottle of hairspray in his hands. It was one of the things that creepy fangirl had asked Ronan to give to him, along with a love letter and a lock of said girls hair. The latter two had seriously creeped the fuck out of Drake, he liked having admirers, but that was going a bit far. But the hairspray... it was the expensive kind. The really expensive, really awesome kind. Should he feel guilty using it, since he had no plans on meeting with his stalker? Well, this was Drake so... he sprayed it in his hair, grinned at how awesome it started to look, not greasy at all as he pulled the brush through it. He was still spraying and brushing when the door opened, and he paused to nod a greeting toward his brother before spraying it again. The fan was on in the bathroom ceiling, so even though the smell of hairspray was detectable, it wasn't chokingly so.

Drake debated whether to spike it once the hairspray was correctly applied - this shit was awesome - but then decided against it and put down the can and his brush, finally turning to actually face his brother. Dalton probably wouldn't find it weird that Drake had been doing his hair - they were brothers, after all, and Dalton would know how particular Drake was about his hair. Drake jumped up and sat on the sink counter, moving some of the many hair products out of the way. Drake acted like such a girl about his hair. "Well, you heard about the party game with Ronan, in water, right?" He wouldn't be surprised - the whole school seemed to know. They'd went farther than any of the other pairs in their desperate stubbornness. "Well I turned her... like me. Hell, at least I didn't kill this one," he defended quickly, before his brother had the chance to reply. "And I kicked her ass, so we have a sort of a grudge. At the party, I was annoying her, and she kissed me, then acted like nothing had happened. She did it to annoy me, I know. So I went to shore and she came a few minutes later. We played spin the bottle - had to kiss each other twice in a row. Then they started telling us to play Are You Nervous? We got really far, I think she wouldn't have given up until I went all the way, I didn't want to, believe it or not I actually felt... dirty. That's new. But anyways, they broke it up and agreed to tie our scores if I got as far as she did. So we started, and we were almost equal, and then she got up and walked away. I was pretty pissed, so I got drunk, blacked out, and woke up here." Drake paused for breath. "Then she showed up with some fangirl mail from another girl in her dormitory, was all mad at me and started crying. I don't get it."

[Drake doesn't... yet. He's an arrogant, self-centered dude, it'll take him time XD]

Drake laughed, shaking his head slightly when Dalton asked if he had feelings for Ronan. "I don't know about her, but I know I don't feel anything but confused. I don't get why women have to be so fucking complex." He rolled his eyes and flipped his hair, drumming his fingers lightly on his thigh, thinking for a moment. Come to think about it, Ronan had gotten a lot more... embarrassed during the game than he had... and he specifically remembered her leaning into his palm when he'd caressed her cheek, trying to freak her out before they'd moved to more serious aspects of the game. He blinked. "Uh... I sure fuckin' hope she doesn't like me." His expression was a rather comical one mixed with worry and disbelief.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I hate this. Too damn confusing." He switched off the fan when the air in the room had cleared, the noise annoying his sensitive ears. At least his head wasn't pounding anymore. "Know any girls that would tell you? Cause, uh, I'm not that popular friend-wise with any chicks." He laughed sheepishly. "They call me an arrogant bastard and leave."