part0016

I slowly open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. I turn my head to the side to look at my alarm clock to see what time it is and this is when my skull moves but somehow my brain doesn’t. The pain is unbearable and excruciating and tears spring to my eyes. I lie absolutely still and wait for the pain to subside before I attempt to focus on the clock. I think it might say 8:37 but I’m not completely sure because I’m having trouble processing thoughts right now.

I slowly close my eyes; if I don’t move at all I can go back to sleep. I don’t want to wake up.

I open my eyes and slowly move my head to look at the clock; my brain wobbles but not quite so much as before; 11:30. After several minutes I work out that I must have fallen asleep again and I try to work out how many hours I’ve been asleep but the effort is too much. I put my elbows on the bed and slowly push myself upright. Not so bad. I’m still wearing the clothes I went out in last night minus my jeans and boots.

Actually, I think sitting up was a mistake, I feel sick. I swivel my eyes frantically around the room without moving my head which hurts much more than I thought it would. I know I won’t make it to the bathroom in time. I spy my Minions waste bin sitting next to my desk. Sorry Kevin, it looks like it’s going to be you. I slide out of bed onto the floor trying to move my head as little as possible and commando crawl on my elbows, dragging myself to the bin. I was wrong about feeling better than the first time I woke up, the pain is just as bad as it was before, in fact I think I might actually be dying.

I manage to reach the bin and I clasp my hands around the rim and hang my head and vomit what feels like the entire contents of my body into it. There’s a whimpering noise and after a while my brain works out that it’s me. I wipe a shaking hand across my mouth and almost vomit again at the fetid remnants of last night’s burger. Gross. I lay on the floor, exhausted, with my arms still wrapped tightly around Kevin the Minion when I hear a gentle tap at the door. I know it’ll be Dad, I can’t believe he’s waited this long to see why I’m not up.

‘Sweetheart?’ The door opens slowly and Dad tentatively pokes his head around it.

‘Oh, Dad.’ I burst into tears. ‘I’m dying.’

Dad sits down on the floor next to me and rubs my back as I sob.

‘It’s okay sweetheart, it’s just a hangover, you’ll feel better by tomorrow.’

‘Aren’t you angry with me?’ I blubber through the snot and tears.

‘Well, I wish you hadn’t done it but I don’t think you’ll be in a hurry to do it again will you?’

I wouldn’t have done it at all if I’d known there was alcohol in that fizzy drink. One drink surely wouldn’t make me so drunk, would it? No, of course it wouldn’t. I knew that coke tasted peculiar, Stacey must have spiked it when she was at the bar, no wonder it was so flat.

I cry even louder and Dad puts his arm around me.

‘Come on, we’ve all been there, it’s not the end of the world. Get back into bed. Do you think you could eat a piece of toast?’

‘Don’t mention food!’ I wail.

‘Okay, okay.’ He gently pulls me to my feet as if I’m an invalid and guides me over to the bed and I flop onto the mattress and crawl underneath the duvet. Dad tucks me in and I hear him pick the bin up.

‘Have a good sleep and you’ll feel better.’

I wake and the room in is darkness. I turn over gingerly to find that my headache has evolved into a rhythmic, steady, thump. I feel slightly better and manage to sit up without feeling sick. I have a raging thirst and surprisingly, I feel hungry too.

I get out of bed and yank my dressing gown from the back of the door and pull it on. My legs feel wobbly and my head feels like it might fall off my neck and roll away but I manage to stagger down the stairs and into the lounge. Dad’s sitting watching the football but he jumps up when he sees me.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better,’ I say. ‘Just going to get a drink.’

‘No, you sit down, I’ll get it.’

I sit down on the sofa and pull the furry throw from the sofa arm over me. Skipper is watching me from his normal spot by the fire and if I thought it was possible, I’d say he looks disgusted with me.

I’m disgusted with me.

Dad comes back in with a glass of water and hands it to me with two paracetamol. I gulp it down without stopping thinking that water never, ever tasted so good.

‘Toast?’ Dad asks hopefully.

He goes back out to the kitchen and I hear the sound of cupboards opening and plates clattering. Skipper walks hesitantly towards me and I put my hand out to him and he sniffs it, then gives it a hesitant lick.

‘Here you are.’ Dad comes in and thrusts a plate of toast at me. ‘I can do you more if you want it.’

I’m suddenly starving and I bolt the toast down and follow it with another glass of water; I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of this thirst.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

I nod. ‘But first, tell me how I got home, I can’t even remember.’

Dad sits down on the sofa next to me. ‘Your friend Biro rang me, said he thought I ought to come and pick you up because you weren’t feeling well.’

‘When I got there you were asleep in the room at the back where the bands get changed, couldn’t get any sense out of you at all.’ I can see the worry on Dad’s face; how frightening it must have been for him.

‘I’m so sorry, Dad, really sorry.’ I think I’m going to cry again.

‘Look, don’t get upset. You’re alright and that’s the main thing, I’m just surprised that you drank alcohol – you always say you don’t even like the taste of it.’

So I tell him about the alcopop thing and how I think Stacey probably spiked my drink. How dumb am I that I didn’t even notice? Dad looks more and more angry by the minute.

‘Think I’ll be ringing her parents and having a word about that young lady. And I’m surprised that Ellie hangs around with people like that.’

‘No, don’t, Dad. It won’t happen again because I won’t be so stupid and gullible. I just thought she was being friendly.’

Dad looks a bit calmer.

‘Okay. Don’t know what’s up with these kids, why do they have to be so spiteful? I sat in your room watching you for hours, making sure you didn’t vomit and choke to death on it.’

I look at him in shock.

‘I didn’t know what you’d drunk, or how much.’

I shake my head, big mistake; brain shake.

‘Anyway, no harm done, lucky you’ve got a sensible friend in Biro.’

If he’s still my friend.

‘Your phone’s been beeping away like mad. I put it on charge in the kitchen for you.’

Oh God. I need more toast before I have the strength to look at my phone. Dad reads my mind.

‘Some more?’ He picks the plate up.

Dad goes out into the kitchen and I snuggle under the throw and wallow; a wet nose nudges my hand and I look down to see Skipper’s little face staring at me. I put my hand on his head and stroke his ears. I pull him up onto the sofa and nuzzle my face in his furry little neck.

‘You won’t let me down, will you Skip?’

He gazes at me and sniffs the air.

Rank. I bet I smell absolutely rank.

An overwhelming feeling of disgust and shame swamps me and I fight back tears.

I put on clean pyjamas after my shower and wrap my dressing gown tightly around me. I’m feeling more human now. Before I got into the shower, I brushed my teeth and when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, I frightened myself. The mascara so skilfully applied by Auntie Bridget was all over my face and my hair was sticking up in tufts. I looked like a zombie.

I comb my wet hair and rub some cream on my face; a bit better though my eyes look puffy. Probably all the blubbing.

I open the window in my bedroom, it’s freezing out but I need to rid the room of the smell of vomit. My stomach churns just thinking about it. Kevin the waste bin is in back in his place, cleaned and washed by Dad and I notice he’s changed the sheets too.

I sit down on the bed and prepare myself to look at my phone. Dad said it had been beeping and it’s all charged up but I haven’t looked at it. I’ve been deliberately putting it off.

I pick it up carefully as if it might explode in my hands and tap the messages icon. There are four WhatsApp messages from Biro:

Surprisingly there’s also one from Ellie:

It’s Ellie’s message that gets to me; it reminds of when we used to text all the time, when we were friends. I feel like crying again but stop myself. Crying won’t help.

I can’t face speaking to Biro so I text him:

He replies almost instantly.

Biro replies: Forgot you’re a social media retard. Will WhatsApp you the clip. You need to see it. It’s all over FB and someone’s even put it on YouTube.