Chapter 47

I am disturbed from my sleep when Mitchell decides to kick me in my side.

Way to kick me while I’m down.

I groaned awake.

God, I’m sooooo drunk.

“Whatcha want Mitchell.” I groaned. “Mitchster. Mitchy dawg.”

“Please never call me those names again.” He put his hand out.

I take his hand, and abruptly, he pulls me up from the ground.

“Ugh.” I instantly felt nauseous.

“Please do not vomit.” He implored.

The strong and bitter taste of whiskey souring my taste buds made me retch. I rush to the bathroom and let loose.

Ugh.

Gross.

Blech.

After spilling my guts out, I head to the vanity and wash my mouth out with mouthwash before I return to my room.

“Are you alright?” Mitchell asked, playing the concerned brother.

“I’m just,” I give him a thumbs up. “brilliant.”

“You call getting drunk before noon brilliant?” He chuckled.

“Blah, blah blah, blah.” I roll my eyes.

I look around my room, at all the damage I had caused.

Mom and dad are going to murder me.

There’s an awkwardly long silence, not that I mind. Silence made my head feel a little less fuzzy.

“So…. You and Grayson?” Mitchell breaks the silence.

“Hmm.” I search through the debris for my phone, which, if I remember correctly, I threw across the room, right in the corner between my empty bookshelf and a desk.

It’s cracked, obviously. It’s not like I expected it to be in a perfectly unscathed condition after tossing it.

“So, what? Does this mean that you’re gay? Or bi, maybe?”

“Argh, No. Maybe? I don’t know.” Why did I have to be anything? Why couldn’t I just be me, ya know?

“It’s just so weird.” Mitchell says.

“Tell me about it.” I start to clean up the mess that I had made.

“So are you both, like, dating?” He wonders.

“No. I don’t know.” I shrugged, picking up a book that I have never read before, nor did I plan on reading it.

Honestly, I haven’t a clue as to why I even have books. It’s not like I read.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He pressed, which triggered my annoyance.

“We kinda were,” I admitted. “then I caught him making out with Aisha.”

“I will kick his ass, again.” He seethed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m done. I’m done with everything. School, romance, life.” I groaned. “I think I might just become one of those people who live off-the-grid and meditates.”

He feigned a chuckle.

“I was talking with Principal Baker…”

Oh great. Another reason to want to climb onto the rooftop and jump off.

“Let me guess, ‘blah blah, bad grades, blah, too many absences, blah blah blah.”

“It’s not funny, Dal. It’s serious.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just school. There are plenty of self accomplished people in the world who never graduated high school. It’s not like I want to be a rocket scientist or anything.”

“You are not going to drop out.” Says Mitchell.

“No. I am. I have never been so embarrassed in my life.” I gave up cleaning my room.

“Did you see the comments?” I ask.

“God, Dal. Why would you read the comments? You never read the comments.” He said in a disappointed tone of voice.

“Everyone is saying mean things.”

“Fuck them, I’ll fucking kick all of their asses.” He says.

“That’d be a sight.” I mused at the thought.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again.

“I am fucking awesome.” I say. “Spectacular!”

“You’re so drunk.” He laughed.

“Duh!”

“Alright, I’m going downstairs because I am absolutely starved.” He walked over towards the door. “You’d better clean this shit up before dad gets home.”

He leaves.

As I drunkenly clean up my room, I’m struck with many thoughts.

Who posted that picture?

Was it Grayson?

I have this strange feeling that it was him. I just, I can’t explain it.

Or maybe it was his dumb friend Diego?

How long until everyone in town knows about it.

How long until my parents hear about their seemingly gay child?

Surprise, surprise, you’re baby boy kissed a boy!

God!

And everyone at school knows…

It’s only a matter of time before I’m the laughing stock of Redfield High School.

Everyone is going to bully me.

I shake my head.

I can’t.

I can’t ever go back to that place.

And I’m never leaving this house again.

Not unless someone is going to heavily sedate me and then drag my unconscious ass out.

That sounds like a great plan!

That night, I was lying on the sofa downstairs watching tv—I had smashed mine during my drunken rage—when there is a knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ugh.

I swear to the almighty, if that is Grayson at the door, I am going to punch him straight in his annoyingly perfect and symmetrical face.

Dad is still at the hospital, and Mitchell is upstairs somewhere.

Mitchell had just gotten back from visiting mom in the hospital a few minutes ago. I would have went with him, but I was mortified, and also very afraid that she would sense that I was drinking today.

She always could read me like an open book.

Knock, Knock, Knock!

“Argghhh!” I groaned. “MITCHELL! ANSWER THE DOOR!” I shouted.

“You! I’m busy!” His muffled shout came a moment after.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” I drag my feet off of the couch and get up to go and see who was disturbing my precious tv time.

I open the door and see someone that I never in a million years expected to see knocking on my door.

“Alicia?”