Sometimes

Chapter twenty-seven

As soon as my head had hit the pillow, the room had started spinning.  It was funny how I could still see my things in their rightful places, yet they kept shuffling to the side, like they were no longer content with staying still.  My Haunted Vegas poster was juddering back and forth, the members swaying in time with my ragged breathing.  I felt ill.  No, more than ill.  I felt dead. 

    The taxi ride home had been anything but plain sailing.  Roz had adopted a new way of talking, choosing to shout how she was going to be sick, over the buzzing in everyone’s ears.  The driver had threatened to pull over at Roz’s admission but Leanne had kept up her role of being in charge.  I’d just rested my head against the window, the vibrations from the road pounding along with the sound of dance music that still lingered in my head.  Thoughts of Sonny surfaced every two seconds, the other moments occupied with containing the feeling of being sick.  The alcohol in my system had seemed to come alive when I’d introduced it to fresh air and with the driver’s window open a crack to let out the smell of sick and sweat, I’d been able to feel bile rising in my throat.  I’d swallowed hard to the sound of Roz announcing that she was going to puke for the hundredth time.  Leanne had reassured the driver again as I’d closed my eyes, hoping to shut everything out until I was left alone to ponder on my kiss with Sonny.

    Here in my bed, the kiss was replaying itself in my mind.  I felt lightheaded and jerked upwards, expecting to taste acid in my throat, but when the urge to be sick never came, I realised it was the memory playing with my head.  I couldn’t remember all of it, my drunken state to blame, but I knew his lips had been surprisingly soft and his hands had felt at home on my hips.

    Above all though, I could remember the way Aiden had sounded as I’d left.  His ‘later’ had been nothing like Sonny’s.  Sonny’s had been full of promise and excitement, but Aiden had sounded… detached.  Almost like he’d said it absentmindedly, too busy thinking about something else.  I rolled over so that I was facing the wall and screwed my eyes shut.  It was the alcohol.  The ecstatic feeling that I’d been harboring earlier was all but gone now, leaving me feeling hung-over and confused.

    I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.  I must have at least got some rest though, the last thing I could remember being the sound of Aiden’s voice as my mind replayed the scene where I’d left.  I rubbed my eyes, feeling stale mascara and eyeliner stick to my fingers.  My skin was greasy, clogged with make-up and a half-assed attempt at sleep.  Groggy wasn’t the word for how I felt.  The bitter taste of alcohol was thick in my mouth and I felt around next to my bed before clumsy fingers found the bottle of water I kept there.  I downed its contents in an attempt to perk myself up but just ended up feeling worse; the water leaving an unsettled feeling in my stomach.

    I could hear movement downstairs and I guessed Mum and Dad were readying themselves for work.  A quick glance at the clock, which was no longer spinning, told me that it was almost half eight.  I was supposed to be in College in half an hour, but something told me that I wasn’t going to make it in today.  I had a feeling it was my massive headache and aching body.  I heard Leanne’s bedroom door open, followed by the bathroom door closing, the towel rail rattling against the radiator in its tell-tale way.  I slipped out of bed and onto the floor.  The movement caused my head to pound harder and I stayed still for a moment, staring at the carpet to try and help steady my breathing.  When I felt a bit better, I crawled over to my desk and pulled out a box of paracetamol.  I swallowed two of the pills dry, grimacing as they slid awkwardly down my throat.  I slumped back under the covers to the sound of the shower turning on and the front door shutting.  I admired Leanne.  I’d half expected her to call in sick today.  As for my one hundred percent record, I had a feeling it was going to go down the drain.