Thankfully I don't throw up. But I probably will at some point.
I walked into the living room and saw Mom sitting there with worried creases in her middle-aged face. Dad's pacing in the kitchen, I can hear his footsteps. And on the couch are two of my ex-friends. They look up at me, and they don't look guilty for doing it. Obviously they were the ones that sold me out.
The jig is up, my dad stated coldly from the kitchen, without even looking at me.
The jig is up.