It All Began With A Letter

Chapter 7: Healing Burns

When I woke up the next morning and sat up in bed, I felt a slight headache. Probably a hangover. But I didn't remember drinking that much. Then again, I rarely drink.

I got off my bed and catiously walked over to the bathroom, trying not to fall. When I reached there, I gripped onto the countertop for support, not positively sure I was safe even though the hangover was slight. I had never really had a hangover before and I didn't really plan on having one anytime soon. I opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and took out a bottle of pain reliever.

I then filled a cup with water and swallowed the pain reliever waiting for it to work its magic. After a while, I slowly started to feel better and went downstairs for breakfast after making sure I looked presentable. I didn't want my mom to see me and know I'd had a hangover.

I made a loud "Ouf" noise as I fell over on the bottom step. I groaned and got back up to find my mom staring at me. I quickly yawned and rubbed my head acting as if it was no big deal.

"You okay, sweetie?" She asked. "Did you drink at that party last night because-" she started. Gosh, she was really good at this. Or maybe it was just my clumsiness that gave it away.

I shook my head but then stopped because it began to hurt again.

"No, Mom! Gosh! You know how I don't like drinking anyways! And if I wanted to, I could've without your permission," I said trying to make it sound believable as I scanned the fridge for something to eat. Failing, I closed the fridge door and walked over to where we kept the bread on the counter. I took two slices and popped them into the toater decided to make cinnamon and sugar toast.

My mom, deciding to ignore my comment, changed the subject. "After you eat, go get dressed."

"Why?" I said harshly as I pushed down the toaster button that transformed my bread into toast.

"Because we're going out," she said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, where are you planning to go?"

"Back to my friend's house. You know the one-" she started.

I cut her off by choking on my own spit.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" she asked.

"Wait, you mean Asher's house?" I yelled with wide eyes.

"Yes," she answered calmly.

"Then no. I am nowhere near okay," I said as I took a sip of her apple juice trying to recover from my choking incident.

"Why what's the matter?" she asked.

"I'm not going back there. That dude is a jerk!" I screamed.

"Riley! Jerk is not a nice word!" she exclaimed.

Pshh. I've said and heard and probably seen worst.

"Yea well so aren't the actual people. They're not nice and certainly do not say nice words. And no thanks, I'll just stay at Eliza's," I said as I grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter and started dialing the number I knew by heart.

 My mom grabbed the phone away from me and gave me a stern look. I stared back at her with my mouth open.

"You know, I'm pretty sure there's a law that says you can't force people to do stuff. It's kind of like peer pressure... or not," I stated, cocking my head to the side.

"Well I'm sure there's a law that says you can't just go to your neighbor's house every time you want to escape from somewhere," she answered back with the same stern look.