Stuck With The Guy In A Cow Costume

Part Two

“ANYA!”

"Come home when you’re… uh… finished. It’s Grandmama’s birthday, not that you’d care.” Anya bolted out of the office before he could reply. She definitely felt like crying her heart out, and she felt a few tears escape before she could stop them, but she kept her back straight like her grandmama taught her and walked down the street.

“Hey Anya! Where are you going?” a familiar voice yelled from behind her. She turned, wiping away some stray tears, to see an extremely high Cohen stumbling her way. He tipped to the side slightly when he reached her and had to grab her shoulder.

“Cohen!” Anya sighed. “What the hell do you have running through your system?”

“Nothing much,” he mumbled back. “Just some smyfmr muhnansan.”

“Some what?”

“Ehhh…”

“Look, where do you live?” She poked his shoulder, but he seemed to have passed out against her chest. “Cohen? COHEN?”

He mumbled something again, but she couldn’t understand anything.

“Oh my God,” Anya groaned, “could this day get any worse?”

Of ALL the things that could happen…

Deciding that there was nothing else she could do, she began to drag him to where his friends usually ‘met up’ so see if any were sober enough to tell her where he lived. They were behind the school basketball stadium, three boys and two girls. Cohen managed to murmur some more unintelligible words at the sight of them.

“Uh, hi,” Anya greeted awkwardly. “Do any of you know where Cohen lives?”

One of the girls looked up- she recognized her as Cohen’s on-and-off girlfriend Bohemian (she had a feeling that that wasn’t her real name)- and shrugged. “Give me ten minutes, I’ll take you.”

“Thanks.”

“Take a seeeeeeeat,” the other girl drawled before taking a drag of the… thing in her hand.

“O-okay.” Anya lowered herself, and Cohen, down next to one of the passed-out guys. She assumed that he was the least dangerous of all of them. Cohen’s head fell onto her shoulder after a few minutes, and he let out a snore.

“Heeey,” one of the guys sneered and Anya looked up to find him straight in her face. He breathed out a ton of smoke and she started coughing loudly. “You’re reeeeally preeeetty!”

“Hands off,” Cohen muttered. “My Russian bride…”

Anya hit him in the stomach. “I am not a Russian bride!”

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh,” was his reply. And then he passed out again.

“Um, Bohemian? Are you ready to go?”

“Nah, I gotta finish this first!” The girl held up a bottle of Jack Daniels that was half full.

“You’re going to drink all of that?” Anya gasped. “By yourself?”

“’Course not you dumb Russian,” Bohemian laughed. “Lenny and Felicia are going to help me!”

She then began to cackle loudly while the other girl- Felicia- took a swing from the bottle. They finished twenty minutes later, and by then all of the stoned guys had tried to flirt with her while Cohen simply drooled on her shoulder.

Bohemian suddenly got up, slightly wobbly, and grinned. “Well, better go take the dumbass home. Come on Natasha.”

“My name is Anya.”

“Same thing.”

It was a pretty awful journey, with Cohen leaning on her all the time and Bohemian stumbling around drunkenly. He just so happened to live a few streets away from the basketball stadium, though, so at least it was short. His house was simple, with only one level, and his father answered the door.

“Afternoon, Mr. James,” Anya sighed. “I, uh, ran into him on the streets. Thought I’d bring him back to you…”

“GOD DAMMIT COHEN!” Mr. James shouted. “THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!”

“I don’t have any straws, sorry…” his son mumbled in reply.

“Thank you Anya,” he sighed with a tired expression on his face. “I’ll take it from here. AND GO HOME JESSICA!”

“MY NAME IS BOHEMIAN YOU IDIOTIC OLD MAN!”

“Sorry,” Mr. James said to Anya. “Go home now. I’m sorry you had to miss your party.”       “It's probably only just started, my family is always late,” she tried to assure him. “I’ll, um, go now I guess.”

“Okay. And again, sorry.”

“It’s fine, Mr. James.”

It took her around half an hour to get home, and when she did she was welcomed by shouting. Thinking that her father had confessed sooner than she thought, she charged into the living room.

“OH ANYA!” Kathleen cried. “IT’S HORRIBLE!”

Her sister threw herself at Anya, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“THEY’RE SENDING ME AWAY! TO A DELINQUENT CAMP! IT’S JUST SO-” she paused. “Why do you smell like booze and weed?”

“I had to-”      

But it was too late.

“Anya! I’m so disappointed in you!”

“Of all of my grandchildren, I thought you were the most sensible. I guess I was wrong.”

“How could you Anya? On your Grandmama’s birthday!”

“I knew it! I knew you were a rotten cow! No one listened to me, no one would think wrong of perfect Anya- but I was right all along!”

“Looks like you don’t have to go to the delinquent camp, Kathleen. Anya’s a far more serious case.”

The last one was her father, and he had a suspiciously satisfied smile on his face.

“Just let me explain!” Anya cried. “I-”

“No!” her mother interrupted. “Just- just go to your room Anastasia! I can’t believe you did this! In front of the whole family!”

“I DIDN’T SMOKE ANY DRUGS! I DIDN’T DRINK! IF YOU WOULD ONLY LISTEN-”

“GO TO YOUR ROOM ANYA! YOU’RE LEAVING IN THREE DAYS! YOU HAVE A PROBLEM THAT NEEDS TO BE FIXED!” Anya glared at her father.

“You’re going to go to Hell,” she told him. “And when you do, I’m going to laugh at you.”

“ANASTASIA NADEAN TATIANA YOUNG! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR FATHER LIKE THAT? YOU’RE GROUNDED! GO TO YOUR ROOM! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

Anya sighed, not having the patience to argue anymore, and went up to her room. Tomorrow she would tell her mother everything. Before it was too late

**********

And so the plot thickens...

The Russian might not be right because I used google translate. If anyone knows Russian, just private message me if it's wrong and I'll change it.

Thanks!