Minutes after I first woke up next morning, I was still in bed, a horrified expression frozen on my face.
Physically speaking, I felt fine. But if given the choice, I would gladly take the most brutal of hangovers over the pain of remembering with extreme clarity every embarrassing detail of the night before, when I got drunk, threw up and lost my shit in front of the boy I liked.
Ugh, I thought at first, and then out loud, with a shudder. "Ugh!" Another wave of embarrassment washed over me, making me duck under covers, which were light pink and full of roses.
There was a knock on my door, followed by the sound of it opening. "What?" I yelled, peeking out but not emerging from my soft warm cocoon, where I had decided to stay forever.
"Good, you're awake." My dad's cheery tone didn't fool me for one second. He was in the living room when I got in, had probably been waiting in the dark all evening, although he claimed to just be getting a midnight snack and asked me to join him. I passed and said good night before hurrying to my room but he must have sensed what went on anyway. Also, he had a bottle of water in one hand and a bottle of Advil in the other. Which was thoughtful, but also did not bode well for me.
"What's that for?" I asked as he set the stuff he had brought on my bedside table. As a response he gave me a look that made me decide not to push my luck. "I mean, thanks, Dad, but I don't need that. I'm totally fine."
"Because you already took something?" He frowned when I didn't answer. "What did I tell you about self-medicating?"
"Only everything I know, Dad," I said. He worked in the Research and Development department of a global pharmaceutical company and therefore was a great source of useful information like that.
Dad sighed. Like, what was the big deal? It wasn't like I was popping prescription painkillers or anything, just a bunch of supplements that he himself told me worked together so I wouldn't feel like shit after nights like the previous one.
"Including that you shouldn't? And that it could lead to horrible side effects?" His voice became gruff. "Now I don't even know what to punish you for first."
"Isn't that Mom's job anyway?" I said, under my breath.
"If you mean making sure our kids are safe and making good choices, then it's both our jobs."
Jesus. I stifled a groan. "I'm sorry I drank, Dad. It won't happen again."
"And if ever it does, you'll call me or Mom to come pick you up? Like we talk about every time something like this happens?"
"We had a designated driver!"
"And was everyone there as smart as you girls?"
"If they weren't, at least they had chauffeurs. It was an Adamson party after all," I said. Dad was unamused. "Okay, I'll call. Satisfied?"
"I will be when you keep your word." He shrugged. "By the way, somebody famous is waiting for you outside. "
"Pfft. He's not that famous."
"Oh he's hella famous!" Dad said. I made the face I always made whenever he spoke like someone my age. "What? He is! You been living under a rock or something?"
I rolled my eyes. "Well, if he's so famous, why hasn't anyone let him in?"
"And no one will until I know what happened to his face."
It took me a moment to understand, but then I remembered the fight he was in, and everything else afterwards, and got all wound up again.
"Some jerks think they can get away with anything," I said through clenched teeth.
"What?" There was alarm in my dad's voice. Scowling, he stood and headed for the door. "And he has the nerve to show his face here? Wait 'til I get my hands on him."
"Dad, no! I wasn't talking about him." I sat up quickly and reached out stop him. "It's not even his fault. Some guys from Adamson ganged up on him. You know how those guys are . . . they think they can do anything they want and that they own everybody."
"So that has nothing to do with you? Nothing going on that I should know about?" My dad looked unconvinced, which was pretty perceptive of him, actually. Maybe what happened between Seth and me was in the back of my mind when I blurted out that earlier remark, but I didn't mean to throw him under the bus like that, or get my dad involved.
"Dad, come on. This is Seth we're talking about. You know Seth. You looove Seth."
Dad scoffed. Men.
Even though my dad wouldn't admit it, I knew he was fond of Seth, and Seth liked respected my dad a great deal, too, because he was different from his dad in the sense that he worked a lot but was still around. And I liked that the two guys I was closest to got along really well. I wouldn't want to mess that up just because things were weird between me and one of them at the moment.
"I love you, okay? How I feel about him is contingent on that irrefutable fact."
"Are you kidding me? He's like, on your speed dial!"
"Well, he's so good to have around--especially when there's yard work to be done."
"Oh my God! You totally can't make him do things like that anymore."
"Hah! Just watch me. . ."
"At least let him in first. Offer him a beverage or something."
"Hey, I'm not the one he's here to see." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "Join me and your mom at the table before you go running off anywhere."
I was gonna clarify whether that meant there wasn't gonna be any of the punishment he mentioned earlier but he might already forgotten about it and disn't want to remind him.
As soon as Dad was out the door I turned my attention towards the window. I was able to reach it without getting off the bed but it took a bit of stretching. Once it was open, I spotted Seth immediately. He was ambling around our lawn and looked up as soon as I stuck my head out of the open window.
"Good morning!" He said, with a tone as warm, and a smile as bright as the morning sun. It was all too much for me this early in the day and I had to back up for a moment.
Unfortunately, the sheets that were still tangled around my feet got in the way and I fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"Oof!" I got on my feet as quickly as I could and looked out the window, hoping he hadn't noticed. The little smirk on his face told me otherwise.
"Still feeling it, huh? How's your head?"
"Shut up, Seth." I glared at him, not appreciating his taunting tone. "I need to get ready for breakfast," I said, and slammed my bedroom window shut.
I headed for the bathroom, determined to take my sweet time in the shower and also to not care whether or not Seth would still be waiting outside when I was finished. After I'd brushed my teeth to get the weird taste out of my mouth, I changed into a loose t-shirt and cropped pants and went downstairs
"Adrian, do I need to set an extra place at the table?" my mom asked as soon as she saw me, letting me know Seth was still outside. She didn't sound ethrilled about it, either, probably because she hadn't had a chance to give her bad cop number and I knew she wouldn't in front of Seth, or anyone who wasn't family.
Which made me kind of glad that Seth had stayed, even though I hadn't asked him and wasn't exactly welcoming, either. It wasn't a bad idea to have him around, if only as a buffer between me and my mother.
"I'll ask. And I'll set the table, Mom. Go sit with Dad." I poked my head out our front door. "Hey Seth! Come join us for breakfast."
He seemed surprised at the invitation at first, but then he shrugged, and walked up to the house. "I ate at home . . . but I'll join you at the table."
I met him at the door and blocked his way in. "Don't say anything weird in front of my parents."
He looked me straight in the eye, his grin diminished into a tight smile. "As if I'm the one with the history of saying weird stuff."
I could only stare, speechless, as he walked past me, toward the
breakfast table in the kitchen, where my parents were. I huffed and hurried to catch up.
"Good morning, Mr. S, Mrs. S," was his polite greeting as he pulled up a chair.
I couldn't help but smile at his dorkiness. And it was nice that could join us for this rare event. On weekdays, my family hardly bothered with breakfast. Saturdays were another thing: My dad was home, so we had to eat together. Nothing fancy, just some nice, warm things at the kitchen table.
"Seth," Dad greeted and went back to whatever he was doing on his smartphone. "It's nice to see you here instead of on TV for once."
"'Kay, that's not creepy, at all," I said.
"Adrian," my mother, who was bringing the food out, warned in a gentle tone. She pulled up a chair, beside Dad on the opposite side of Seth, at whom she smiled warmly. "You have to admit, it's very impressive what Seth and the boys have accomplished. Your mother must be so proud."
I turned my back on them, rolled my eyes and went to get some stuff from the fridge.
Like my mom really cared about Mrs. Frasier's pride, anyway. She was the competition. Before he was born, she was the only mom of a prodigy on the block.
Jesus, what's with the Seth Frasier love-fest in our kitchen all of a sudden?
"She's supportive and everything," Seth was saying when I returned to the table with a carton of almond milk and pulled out the chair next to his. "As long as it doesn't distract me from truly important stuff. Like my schoolwork."
Almond milk almost came out of my nose. As far as I knew, jingling a set of keys in front of this boy could distract him from his schoolwork.
Jesus. He must have PR guys coaching him for interviews now. It was the only explanation I could think of for why he was talking like a finalist in a beauty pageant.
Also, for someone who had already eaten, he certainly had an appetite. He helped himself to four strips of turkey bacon, a mug of black coffee, half a grapefruit and two slices of zucchini bread. I stared at him in bewilderment.
"It's a real shame Adrian has no follow-through," my mom continued. "Maybe she'd be right up there with you had she just kept at her music lessons."
"Are you serious right now?" I asked, scoffing. That vote of confidence might have gone a long way back when I was nine and had high hopes, musically. Now it just made me suspicious and defensive.
"You're right. It's not entirely your fault. All that nasty business back then pretty much forced you to quit."
I glared at my mom, who didn't seem to notice. My response earlier was just good instincts, apparently. Why the hell would she say such a thing in front of Seth?
"You know why I stopped, Mom," I said in the same annoying level tone she had used. "You said it wasn't getting me anywhere and was a waste of money."
"That's ridiculous. I would never say that. Besides, how much could those services have cost, anyway?" She asked, with a huff, looking right at Seth, as if demanding an answer.
"For what it's worth, we owe a huge part of our success to Adrian. We wouldn't be where we are if not for her." "
There was a dumbfounded look on my mom's face as she turned to me, but I had no idea what that was about, either, so I just mirrored her expression and looked at Seth for an explanation. Instead of giving it he just smiled and winked. Winked! Like, who did he think he was--some sort of superstar heartthrob or something?
Wait.
And it didn't end there; he then rested a hand on my knee. This surprised me, so I gave a swift kick under the table and connected with his shin. Hard. But he went on talking to my parents, as if nothing happened. He barely even winced. I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been the cause of his pain.
Pretty smooth of him, I had to admit. A few more minutes of this and even my mom would be eating out of his hand.
The three of them went on talking. Meanwhile I, the sole child at the adult table, sulking because she was left out of the conversation, finished my food in silence.
When breakfast was over, Seth offered to help clear the table and with loading the dishwasher but I made him wait outside because any broken dishes were certainly going to add to any punishment my mom had waiting for me.
To my surprise, instead of making me do those chores myself, my mom sent me on my way, as well, so I followed Seth to the back porch, where I found him sitting on cushioned swing we had there.
"Next time, maybe call first instead of just dropping in like this?" I said to him as soon as I was sure my parents were out of earshot.
He grinned and held up his phone. "I tried. Bunch of times. God, you must have been out cold."
"My battery probably died 'cause you kept calling, " I said, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't hear it ring once.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh sure, blame me for your phone dying."
"What do you mean?"
"Are you sure this didn't have anything to do with it?" He spoke slowly, deliberately, leaning back on the swing with his legs stretched, making the seat sway back and forth, and then flashed me his phone.
Puzzled, I walked over to him so I could get it, but he snatched it away when I reached for it. He did that a couple of times until I must have looked mad enough to throttle him.
"For the love of-" I started to yell. That was when he gave it up.
I glanced at his phone and my blood ran cold. I took a step back and with a surprised gasp fell and landed on a soft chair.
Apparently, I was wrong. I didn't remember everything about last night all that clearly after all.
Because according to Seth's phone, sometime in the night, I had managed to wake up and send him a series of embarrassing drunk texts.