Chapter 13

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  My first hangover was not an event I particularly celebrated. Unless it was a puke party, then in that case, I celebrated plenty.

  I woke after twelve, and after having a shower and being sick in general, my brain started working and I realized I should call Brooklyn to see how she was holding up.

“Noooo,” was the first thing I could hear B saying.

“I think I’m finally done chucking up my guts,” I told her, “but how are you?”

“Well, I guess Aaron told my parents because they met him at the door, and there was certainly no hiding my drunkness. Drunkenness, whatever. So they were pretty angry, but more so worried, which led to them on the phone all night talking to doctor after doctor, as if they never ceased, the perpetual amount of doctors in America. They kept me there and half awake, I don’t know why, maybe in case they were told they had to take me to the ER.” She told me, sounding exhausted.

  “What did the doctors say?”

“Just to take it easy, because basically cancer + alcohol= one hell of a hangover.”

So I left her to sleep, and stayed in my room in fear that my dad would come home from work and notice me. After me refusing to call Sandra, I didn’t know how things would go over. But I assumed badly.

  The phone knocked me out of my daze when Aaron called, wanting to know if I wanted to go over for supper. Jessica had been wanting to see me, and Gerald wanted to cook for someone else. I couldn’t deny that offer, especially since it involved me being anywhere but here.

  I tugged on some shorts and put my hair into a neat ponytail, deciding myself presentable, and headed over.

  “SKYLAR’S  HERE!!!” Jessica screeched before I even reached the door, and she came running out at my surprised arms. “I have soo much to tell you about! And I got some new toys for us to play with!” She grabbed my hand and we ran inside the house, a lovely home-cooked meal smell hitting my nose immediately.

  “Hi, supper smells great by the way, Gerald. Thanks for having me.” I told Aarons dad once I was pulled into their kitchen.

He looked over his shoulder and gave me a warm smile, “Of course! I’ve wanted to have you over for a bit dear, and I don’t think Jessica here could have waited any longer.”

  Aaron came down and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes, giving us a lazy smile. He walked over and whispered, “How’s the hangover treating you? I’m just glad you guys couldn’t convince me to get a drink.” I laughed, and we all headed up to Jessie’s room, the door decorated with a princess poster. When we stepped in, I almost couldn’t believe it. 

  The room was rainbow; each wall had at least two different colors on them. And the toys. There was a huge Barbie dream house in the center of her large room, an endless amount of toys scattered everywhere.

  “You know you don’t have to play if you don’t want to,” Aaron told me, noticing my shocked expression.

“No she does hafta!” Jessie interjected looking up at me with huge eyes.

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t wait to play!” I had been Barbie deprieved as a child, forced to play with Justin’s old toys, because Sandra couldn’t be bothered to buy me any. My other family figures tried, but they were gone within a week of getting them. Plus Jessica was such a sweet kid.

  So Jessica and I played with her toys for an hour, while Aaron sat in her chair and read a book, sometimes looking over at us with an amused expression. At the supper table, there were no awkward silences where all you could hear were your forks scrapping against your plates in a mocking manor.

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