“Good morning.”
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“When did you get home last night?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think it was around four.”
“Oh.”
“Sweetheart?”
“What?”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?”
“You’re very short, and mean. It’s not like you. Where did my little girl go?”
“Piss off.”
“Excuse me? “
“I said, PISS OFF.”
“Who are you to talk to me like that? You should be respectful to me!”
“Just don’t talk to me.”
“Sarah! Get back here right now and sit down at the table and talk to me!”
I slam the door behind me and walk out to my car. I pat my pockets, but I don’t have keys. F***. Its a miracle I even made it home last night. And mom, she needs to piss off. God I hate her. I walk past my car onto the street and just keep going.
“SARAH! Sarah come back here!”
I just keep walking straight down my road.
“Sarah please come back! Come sit down with me, please?”
No. The street splits and I go left. Left is towards the park, right is towards the school. The park is about a mile away from here, so I stroll there. Finally. That walk felt like forever. God I think I’m still drunk. I collapse onto a bench and enjoy the moment of relaxation. My head feels like it being bashed with a hammer. Oh God, here it comes. I heave, and spew.
Great. Now I have to move again. And I got puke all over my shoe. So I get up and walk across the park to the bench by the swings. There is a t-ball game going on. Those kids can’t be much older than 8. I bet they didn’t even decide to play on that team, their parents probably choose for them. I don’t know what my mom thinks she can do with me anymore. I’m 18, not 8, she’s got nothing. Why don’t i just go live with my dad? A kid hits a line drive right to the third baseman and smacks the kid directly in the face. There’s blood immediately. It makes me queasy and I hurl again. Ugh, I’m sick of moving around so much. There’s no benches left so I go sit in the jungle gym and pass out.
“Sarah? Hey Sarah!”
I rub my eye and sit up. My head is pounding worse than before and my stomach is in knots. I love drinking, but I hate the hangover. God damn.
“Sarah! What are you doing here?”
“Oh uh, hey Ben.”
“Wow. You look like s***. I  guess it was a good night, huh?”
“Yeah, I feel like s***, but honestly who knows?”
“Hey yeah sorry I ditched you last night, Leah was all over me. I couldn’t miss out on that. Where’d you go?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You were that hammered huh? The last I saw of you, you were with some juniors playing flip cup and you were winning, by a lot. So I guess that’s why you were so far gone.”
“Did I drive home?”
“I don’t know. James was following you around like a lost puppy all night though. Maybe he took you home?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t know where my keys are.”
“You should probably get on that. Your car is in your driveway?”
“Yeah. All in one piece, so either I’m a fantastic drunk driver or someone took me home.”
“When did you leave?”
“I don’t know. My mom said she thinks I got home around four.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yeah sort of. She did her regular b****ing and I walked out. She should know by now that I don’t care what she has to say. God I hate her.”
“She just wants to make sure you’re safe. She called like 15 times last night.”
“How do you know?”
“You left your phone on the pong table. I picked it up. Here.”
“Thanks.”
I turn it on and see that I have 46 new messages and 18 missed calls. 39 messages and 16 calls were from mom. Go figure. Two calls and one text from my dad? That’s interesting. Mom probably called him freaking out. F*** that. The rest of the messages were from Ben wondering where I was.
“She really did call me 16 times. That’s ridiculous.”
“She just cares.”
“Well she needs to stop.”
“Sarah youre being a b****. Relax, she’s your mom, she’s always going to worry. You’re pretty reckless, she has every right to freak out.”
“Oh f*** you.”
I sit up all the way and slide down the slide. What a dramatic exit I think to myself as I roll my eyes and get up to walk away.
“Really? Really Sarah.”
I raise my hands towards him and give him the bird.
“Fine. I’ll see you later I guess.”
The t-ball game is over and there’s not a trace that anyone was ever there. I must have been out for a while. There’s not a single piece of trash. I walk slowly back down the roads towards my house. I head is killing and my lips are chapped. I could go for a water right now. Or a shot. Or a blunt. Whatever gets rid of the headache faster. I get home and walk inside and flop onto the couch. I really need water, but I can’t get up.
“Sarah?”
“What?”
“Is that you?” She says through the wall between the kitchen and living room.
Oh my god. No, its a stranger who has a key to the house, the same exact voice, and responsds to ‘Sarah’. Are you f***ing dumb?
“Yeah.”
“Oh gosh sweety! Where have you been all day? I’ve been worried sick!”
“Can you get me water? And Advil?”
“Yes of course!”
“And would you stop yelling? God.”
Mom finally appears around the corner with a glass of water and a single pill. I roll my eyes and sit up, one f***ing advil. What’s that going to do? At least its a full glass of water.
“Where have you been? Are you okay? You look awful!”
“Thanks.”
“ I didn’t mean it like that. I mean you look sick.”
“Yeah I know what you meant.”
“So where were you all day?”
I went to the park to watch a t-ball game with Ben.”
“Oh. Well that sounds fun! Do you know someone on the team?”
“Ben’s little brother is.”
“Well how was the game?”
“Great.”
“Who won?”
“Ben’s brother’s team.”
“Well isn’t that fun!”
“Yep.”
“So where did you go last night? I thought you were coming home at 11?”
“I never said that. You did.”
“We agreed on it.”
“No, we did not. I never said when I would be home. I don’t want to talk to you about this. About any of this. It’s none of your business. Youre being retarded. I’m 18, you aren’t in charge of me anymore. Just stop.”
“Sarah Marie!”
“What Mom? No, actually f*** off. I don’t give a s*** what you have to say.”
“Stop this.”
“You stop.”
“I won’t ask you about last night as long as you stop cursing.”
“Fine.”
The clock says 7:34. Tom should be home from work soon. Great. Now he’ll be on my back too. I cross my arms and sit back into the couch. I move my feet around and then lean forward and chug the glass of water.
“I guess you were thirsty, huh?” my mom says will a smile on her face.
I get up and walk into the kitchen to refill it. Tom walks in the door as I finish filling the glass and I think to myself f***. Should I run and hide or should I let him try to yell at me for the sake of a fun fight? He has even less of a right to lecture me since he’s not even my real dad. I don’t really feel like yelling any more. I want to go to sleep. I quick drink the water and put the cup in the sink, then turn and try to run upstairs as stealthily as possible. I hear them in the other room talking about me. I can’t make out what they’re saying but I think its safe to assume they’re speculating about last night.
“Sarah?” Tom says.
No no no no no no. I don’t want to talk to you. I keep walking down the hall towards the steps, pretending like I didn’t hear him. I try to walk lightly so they can’t hear how rapid my foot steps are.
“Sarah come back here. You’re mother and I would like to talk to you.”
How about no? F*** you Tom.
“Sarah Marie Dameswood, come here now.” My mom says as sternly as possible.
Oh sure now that Tommy’s home you’ve got big girl pants on and you can be stern and paternal. Ha. Ha. Haha. Ha. Piss off. I slam my door shut. I take off the jeans that I’ve had on for the past 36 hours and fall onto my queen size bed. I snake up towards my pillows and cuddle up into the pile of clothing I have laying on the left of the mattress. The pile seems extra big today. Huh. Mom must have done laundry I guess, finally. I see a green shirt mixed in with the pile. That’s not mine. I don’t wear green. . . So I grab it and pull, but it doesn’t move. What the..? I pull harder, but still, it doesn’t budge so I pull the blankets away and push the clothes off to reveal the shirt and its source of resistance. I leap backwards and yelp!
“Oh my god.” I peep out as I slap my hands across my mouth. Oh s***. Its a person. A guy. I can’t see his face, its covered by a pillow, but I know it’s James, I can tell by the tattoo he has on his forearm. I guess he did drive me home last night. Then decided to stay. He’s such a good looking guy, god damn. I wonder. . . I check to make sure the door is closed then look back at him. I take the pillow off his face and he looks so peaceful.
“James” I say sweetly.
He doesn’t move, so I poke him. He still doesn’t move, so I poke him a little harder, and still nothing. Wow, he really must have drank a lot last night.
“James? Hey Jamesss? Pssssst, James.”
Nothing.
“James.” I say sharply. Still nothing. Oh my god. What wrong with him. Ugh. So I shove him off the bed, and a loud thump follows.
“Sarah? Sarah are you alright?” My mom’s screechy, worried voice carries through the house and pierces my ears, and James’ too I guess because I hear a groan. “Sarah are you okay? Are you hurt? What just happened?”
“Uhhhmmm, ugh. Wha…..” James mumbles as he tried to prop himself up before he flops back to the ground.
“James?”
“Yeah? What? Where am…”
“Hey James. Its Sarah.”
“Oh, uh, hey.”
“Hey” I say with a little smile.
“Could I get some water, and like a bottle of pain killers? My head feels crazy.”
“Yeah, hold on a second. I’ll be right back.” I open my door to find my mother sprinting up the stairs at me.
“Are you alright? I heard a loud noise, I thought maybe you fell and got hurt. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Some stuff fell out of my closet when I was looking for something to change into. Would you just leave me alone?”
“Honey, Tom and I want to talk to you.”
“Why? No. Leave me alone.” I push past her and head towards the stairs, but I hear her open the door to my room.
“Hey!” I yell, “What are you doing?” Oh god. That was too loud. I grab my head.
“I’m going to go clean up the stuff that fell from your closet…” she says, clearly alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“Stay out of my room.”
“Um, okay.”
Sheesh, that was close. If they found him in my room, I would be dead. I turn and walk down the stairs to the kitchen to get the bottle of Advil, hoping my mom will follow and praying that James doesn’t make a sound.