The brightness of the sunlight woke me and as I peered over the covers to find the offending window, a splitting headache bombarded me. I groaned and dug around the nightstand for some Tylenol, but no such luck. Damn, I thought. First time drinking and of course I had to drink some sludge that probably fried brain cells by the drop. I winced as I sat up, feeling a strange, sort of pleasant ache in my body. Christ, I’m a sucker for pain… well, I already know that! But then my sub-consciousness finally burst through the wall of hangover and taste of feet in my mouth and I noticed that I was not wearing my pajamas. In fact, I wore nothing at all. I sat there for a few seconds, too long seconds, and then I yelped and looked around for my clothes and again, froze completely: lying in the bed, with the covers only reaching his waist, was Scott. One arm was flung over his head and the sunlight made the ridges and valleys of his body all more profound. His face though, was completely relaxed, calm and snoring slightly. No, I thought. No, no, no… did we…? I had to know. I carefully lifted the covers and risked a quick peek, and then slammed them down! I could feel my face burning hot. We had. I gathered what little self-control I had and quickly picked up a t-shirt from the floor and my panties (oh god, my white cotton ones… Vanilla with Vanilla Sprinkles) and tiptoed out of my room, rushed down the stairs and then sat at the kitchen table in less than a minute, somewhat dressed and out of breath. Oh god, oh god, I’v never tried alcohol before and this was not how I expected my first time to be! Only dull memories of breathing and clumsy kissing stayed with me and I glared at the thermos which stood innocently on the table. “Damnit… I’m just like Marcie!” I whined and put my head against the cool surface of the table. What would Vee say? “So Nora”… I could practically hear Vee saying with forced nonchalance. “Are ALL his muscles big and bulging?” And her eyeing the thermos meaningfully and gesturing with her hands about Scott’s- I stifled a laugh. Was the booze still in my system? I felt so at ease and, despite my headache, good. Maybe alcohol was liberating? I was going to need to think about this… my drumming fingers soon became too much for my sensitive head, so I settled on chewing my lip. Think, Nora, think…
A quarter past ten, and already late for my summer class, I sneaked around my own room for fresh clothes. Scott was still snoring lightly, lying in a tangle of cloth as if he was some fallen god who’d crashed into the Earth. I settled for a pair of comfy, washed-out jeans, a light top and a jacket in the same shade of red as my tennis shoes. I hurried down the stairs again, though oddly unconcerned about being late, which was an elevating feeling. I ran my fingers through my hair so I’d look slightly more presentable. My eye fell on the thermos on the table again, except this time I didn’t imagine Vee gasping and stroking it. “I don’t think you should forget your life, Scott, even if it is bad.” I mumbled and then took the thermos, unscrewed the top and poured the vileness into the sink! Small changes. As I finished helping Scott in my own way, I made a small change for me as well. I grabbed a pen and the phone message pad and after only hesitating for a moment, quickly wrote my phone number to Scott and that we needed to talk.
I didn’t realise it until many hours later, that I hadn’t given Patch a single thought. -----------------------
Also because this book needs more normal, healthy teens and less slut-shaming.
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Date: 2013-10-25 06:00 pm (UTC)The brightness of the sunlight woke me and as I peered over the covers to find the offending window, a splitting headache bombarded me. I groaned and dug around the nightstand for some Tylenol, but no such luck. Damn, I thought. First time drinking and of course I had to drink some sludge that probably fried brain cells by the drop. I winced as I sat up, feeling a strange, sort of pleasant ache in my body. Christ, I’m a sucker for pain… well, I already know that! But then my sub-consciousness finally burst through the wall of hangover and taste of feet in my mouth and I noticed that I was not wearing my pajamas. In fact, I wore nothing at all. I sat there for a few seconds, too long seconds, and then I yelped and looked around for my clothes and again, froze completely: lying in the bed, with the covers only reaching his waist, was Scott. One arm was flung over his head and the sunlight made the ridges and valleys of his body all more profound. His face though, was completely relaxed, calm and snoring slightly. No, I thought. No, no, no… did we…?
I had to know. I carefully lifted the covers and risked a quick peek, and then slammed them down! I could feel my face burning hot. We had. I gathered what little self-control I had and quickly picked up a t-shirt from the floor and my panties (oh god, my white cotton ones… Vanilla with Vanilla Sprinkles) and tiptoed out of my room, rushed down the stairs and then sat at the kitchen table in less than a minute, somewhat dressed and out of breath. Oh god, oh god, I’v never tried alcohol before and this was not how I expected my first time to be! Only dull memories of breathing and clumsy kissing stayed with me and I glared at the thermos which stood innocently on the table.
“Damnit… I’m just like Marcie!” I whined and put my head against the cool surface of the table. What would Vee say?
“So Nora”… I could practically hear Vee saying with forced nonchalance. “Are ALL his muscles big and bulging?” And her eyeing the thermos meaningfully and gesturing with her hands about Scott’s-
I stifled a laugh. Was the booze still in my system? I felt so at ease and, despite my headache, good. Maybe alcohol was liberating? I was going to need to think about this… my drumming fingers soon became too much for my sensitive head, so I settled on chewing my lip. Think, Nora, think…
A quarter past ten, and already late for my summer class, I sneaked around my own room for fresh clothes. Scott was still snoring lightly, lying in a tangle of cloth as if he was some fallen god who’d crashed into the Earth. I settled for a pair of comfy, washed-out jeans, a light top and a jacket in the same shade of red as my tennis shoes. I hurried down the stairs again, though oddly unconcerned about being late, which was an elevating feeling. I ran my fingers through my hair so I’d look slightly more presentable. My eye fell on the thermos on the table again, except this time I didn’t imagine Vee gasping and stroking it.
“I don’t think you should forget your life, Scott, even if it is bad.” I mumbled and then took the thermos, unscrewed the top and poured the vileness into the sink! Small changes. As I finished helping Scott in my own way, I made a small change for me as well. I grabbed a pen and the phone message pad and after only hesitating for a moment, quickly wrote my phone number to Scott and that we needed to talk.
I didn’t realise it until many hours later, that I hadn’t given Patch a single thought.
-----------------------
Also because this book needs more normal, healthy teens and less slut-shaming.