✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

02. A Rough Morning

ARI.

Despite the fact that Luke Hemmings was a much nicer person when he was drunk, he was also very whiney and very much a handful. After waking up at 3AM to numb legs and a sore back, I was able to get Luke off of the bench and into my car. I was also able to get him buckled in and keep from barfing all over the seat as I drove him home. The problem however, was trying to figure out how to get him inside. Trying to fish for his keys inside his jean pockets was not only awkward - especially his back pockets, but proved to be useless when his keys were nowhere to be found. That's when plan-b happened.

Mrs. Liz Hemmings.

Luke's mom and I already had an established relationship. She was and currently is my math teacher, and easily became one of my favorite staff members at school - especially since math is my worst subject and Mrs. Hemmings always took extra time to tutor me. So when I called her cellphone in the very early morning informing her that her son was passed out drunk in my car, she did not reprimand my actions and instead thanked me for helping her son out.

"Ari, you're a sweetheart, really," Mrs. Hemmings stated, as she and I walked out of Luke's room. It took the woman-power of the both of us to bring Luke out of the car, into the house, up the stairs and inside his bed covers. In between the journey, Luke had puked. Twice. And threatened to urinate his pants.

"It was no problem. I just felt bad that none of his friends were around to help," I expressed. Mrs. Hemmings sighed and shook her head. She looked almost sadden by this fact.

"I don't like the people he spends time with. They're manipulative kids and I don't trust them at all," she declared. She rested a hand on my shoulder, "I trust you though."

"Thanks," I smiled. I felt a nice assurance by her words.

"He wasn't always like this you know," Mrs. Hemmings began, turning her head to a portrait I hadn't noticed before.

On the wall near the first landing of the stair case was a large framed photograph of Luke maybe a year or two younger. A big, bright smile matched his bright blue eyes that were behind a pair of large, thick-framed glasses. Instead of the quiff he usually wore, his hair was slicked backwards. He looked different, but still happy. Not to say Luke wasn't happy in this present - well, sober and awake - state, but he definitely wasn't flashing this million-dollar smile around the school hallways.

"He's changed a lot since we moved here," Mrs. Hemmings sighed, "he's a much cooler kid in the eyes of his peers this time around, but if you ask me, I always thought he was a cool kid."

I suddenly felt bad for the woman standing in front of me in her pale blue pajama set and bathrobe. She was truly a sweet woman who only wanted what was best for Luke. Partying and showing up at 3 in the morning drunk out of his mind was not a great way of repaying his mother.

"I'm sorry for babbling," she apologized.

I shook my head with a small smile, "don't apologize, it's okay. Luke's popular and has a reputation on campus that he obviously wants to uphold. But if you ask me Mrs. Hemmings, I think you've done a swell job so far of raising him."

Mrs. Hemmings pulled me into a warm hug, "thank you sweetie."

Her voice cracked, and I knew that tears were welling in her eyes. She pulled away from the hug, her cheeks stained with tears.

"Are you going to be okay Mrs. Hemmings?" I asked.

"Yes Ari, I will be," she replied. "Thank you again for all your help and for taking good care of my son. I'll be sure to have your shirt washed and Luke will personally give it back to you on Monday. I'll let you get home now, your parents must be worried. Tell them to give me a call if you need someone to vouch for your late night absence."