90s Queen Bee #Wattys2016

Chapter 12 - Consequences

1998

Shit, shit, shit!

Leonardo's baby face greeted me like some sort of floppy haired angel-demon as I opened my eyes.

What the fuck? I was still trapped in 1998?

What I wouldn't give for my iPhone. I'd google the shit out of 'time travel', 'pink pills', 'how long was the longest ever acid trip?' and 'is Groundhog Day based on a true story?'

I couldn't use dad's desktop computer to look any of this stuff up – mum and dad had taken away my computer and phone privileges. That was house phone privileges. I wouldn't get my first mobile phone until next year.

My pink radio clock flashed 6.03am. I groaned and rolled over. What was I going to do? How did people usually snap out of their drug trips? Drink coffee? No, that was if you were drunk, you knobhead. Then again, I was pretty desperate by this point. I thought I'd have one crazy day back at high school and go out in a blaze of glory with no consequences. How naïve of me.

I swung my feet out of bed and made to the kitchen. I flicked on the kettle and rubbed my temples.

Okay, what was the worst case scenario here? The worst case scenario was that I really was stuck in 1998.

So what was the silver lining? Well, I'd get to live my 20s again. I'd lose my virginity to that cute guy from first year uni who'd told me I had nice legs when I had the chance and I definitely wouldn't sleep with that hot friend of a friend of Marcy's who'd given me crabs. I wouldn't use that DIY waxing kit that had given me a rash along my bikini line in 2006. I wouldn't lie to my first boss about being fluent in Spanish and I wouldn't buy those $500 white trousers when I was 24. They'd stayed their pristine white for precisely 22 minutes after putting them on.

I was looking forward to doing my 20s all over again, really.

And what else would I do? So much stuff! I'd say yes to that trip to Prague I'd been too busy for in 2009. I'd appreciate the fact that I had no wrinkles. I'd go on more dates. I'd pick a different university course. I'd continue with the drama classes - then maybe I wouldn't wind up losing sleep over conversion rates at Smith Bank.

Maybe I'd even go to LA with Millie ...

'Ooh, pour me a cup will you?' Millie padded into the kitchen with a yawn. The girl could sure pull off no makeup, birds nest bed hair and a dressing gown.

'Get me a cuppa too,' sang out mum behind her.

'Does the rest of the shire of Willis want a coffee too?' I stuck my tongue out at them.

'Don't play the whole butter wouldn't melt routine with me, Sammy,' warned mum. 'You're on very thin ice right now.'

I sipped my coffee and wondered if the caffeine would jolt me back to 2015.

'Since when do you drink black coffee Sammy?' Millie raised her eyebrows.

'I just felt like a black coffee.' I tried to ignore how they stared at me as I poured their coffees.

Millie broke the awkward silence. 'Sammy, I just gotta say good on you. Robin's always been a self-important little bitch.'

'Please don't encourage her, Millie.' Mum grabbed her coffee and clutched the mug with both hands. Wasn't it scalding?

'Jeez, okay.' Millie held her hands up as if to say, 'Don't shoot me.'

Mum had that snappy tone to her voice that she'd used often after the divorce. In 2015, she reserved the tone for tense conversations with dad. That's right, the divorce was nigh. I watched her stare out the window and blow on her coffee. I wondered what was going through her head but I figured it was best not to talk about it.