white boys (river phoenix)

36

  Chapter Thirty Six

If there was one word to describe how Robin felt the next morning, it would obviously be hungover, but it would also be "hell."

Robin felt like death that morning. There was crust in her eyes, her breath reeked of liquor, her eyes were bloodshot, and her head was pounding. She didn't drink much and she'd only ever been drunk once or twice before this event. But this was the most drunk she'd ever been, and she thought she was going to die.

Luckily, her parents weren't home to interrogate her, so she was free to wash up and make herself a cup of coffee without being subjected to a full on interview. She tried humming to herself so it wasn't absolutely silent, but that only made her want to die more.

So she tried silence, and, it ended up working.

She had half expected River to come over and say a few words, which he didn't, but luckily she didn't really want him to. She was tired out of her mind and the last thing she wanted was to hold up conversation with someone as bubbly and energetic as River, who stayed completely sober the night before. She hoped she hadn't done anything too stupid.

She wasn't so drunk that she didn't remember anything, but some of the events from last night after homecoming were fading. She tried hard to remember doing anything extremely embarrassing besides being an annoying mess, but she couldn't find anything that made want to her coil up into a little ball and avoid human socialization for the rest of her life.

She spent the rest of the day in solitude, and napped and watched the television until her parents came home around five PM.

"Robin!" her mother exclaimed as they burst through the door, each of them holding grocery bags in their hands.

"Hi mom," Robin waved meekly.

"Would you help us put the groceries away?" her dad asked.

"Actually dad, I'm not feeling so hot, uh, can I take a raincheck?" Robin asked, putting her hand to her forehead.

Her dad hurried over and leaned over her on the couch she was sprawled out on.

"Hm," he said, examining her face like he was a doctor. "You don't look as colored. Little gray, green even. You think you should go to the doctor's?"

Robin shook her head,

"Oh, no, no, just tired."

"Oh yeah, how was homecoming?" her mother sang excitedly from the kitchen.

"It was great, actually. Really fun. I had a good time with my friends," Robin answered.

Along with a very special friend, her brain nagged.

"Oh, how fun. Did you guys go out after? You came home late."

"Yeah, uh, actually, we went to a restaurant after," Robin lied, banging her head with her hand afterwards.

She hated lying to her parents, but if she said they'd gone to a party, that greenish glow on her face would indicate a little more than sickness to them. But they seemed to believe her, after all, why would they not? Their little Birdy could never tweet out of tune.

"Great. So, did you dance with any boys?" her mother smirked, wiggling her brows.

Her dad shook his head,

"I hope not. You know the rules."
"Hugh, the rules are no white boys, not no boys in general. Well, I guess you're right. Boys are a distraction, and inevitably lead to havoc. Besides, you've got Jesus! By the way, how is he doing?"