tells me exactly how she’s feeling.
“I feel awful. I don’t know why I drank last night.”
I bite my bottom lip to hold in my laughter. “I don’t know why either. Do you remember making out with Davis from the debate team?”
“What?!?!?! You’re kidding right?” She asks as she grumbles and pulls the blanket over her head.
“Um, no. When I went to grab you, you were making out with Davis in the corner.”
“Fuck! This is not going to be good!”
“Well, I don’t think anyone really noticed and if they did, they didn’t say anything. Would you like something to eat?”
“Yes, but I would like something light.”
“Is soup alright?”
“Yes. I would love some soup.”
I come back in the living room with her soup as the model show is ending. I place the bowl of soup with a few saltine crackers on the TV tray. I go back to the kitchen to grab a light colored soda. Great, another episode with stick thin models appears on the television. I swear, these girls would stop bickering with each other if they would eat something! Most of them are far too thin, in my opinion.
“So, how did it go with Tommy last night?”
“It went great,” I hold my hand out and show her the ring.
“Did he propose to you?”
“No, this is a promise ring. He promised to love me and protect me.”
“Abigail, that is so, um, sweet yet corny at the same time. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
I ignore Katherine’s snide comment and put my hand back in my pocket. How is it that she can be so shallow sometimes? Is it because she’s jealous? Whatever the reason is behind her attitude, my patience is starting to wear thin. I try to shake the feeling of anger. I’m not an angry person, usually, and this is abnormal for me to feel like this toward Katherine. “So, do you want to have dinner at my house on Friday?”
“Well, I don’t really know what my plans are for that day ,” Katherine says, matter-of-factly.
“If you come over for dinner, you can stay the night and we can go shopping for graduation dresses on Saturday.” Mike owes me. I just offered myself up for a day of torturing at the mall so Mike could ask my friend out.
“Ok, I’m down for dinner and a sleepover.”
“Cool. I’ll pick you up for school on Friday and you can put your overnight bags in my car.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Awesome. I’m going to head home now. There’s some more soup in the fridge if you get hungry later.”
“Thanks, Abby. I love you girl.”
“Love you too, Katherine.”
On the drive back from Katherine’s my stomach starts to turn. I hurry to get home because I feel like I’m going to throw up. Maybe Katherine’s sickness isn’t necessarily from the alcohol she drank. I’m wondering if she has a touch of the stomach flu.
I pull into the driveway and screech to a halt. I jump out and run to the nearest place to vomit; the flower bed. My parents heard my abrupt stop in the driveway and rush out of the front door. My dad holds my hair back with one hand while holding me around my waist with the other to keep me from falling over. When there is nothing left in my stomach, he lifts me in his arms and carries me to bed.
My mom is fretting around me with a thermometer and a cool wash cloth. “You don’t have a fever, Abby. What did you eat today?”
“I had some eggs and toast with orange juice this morning.”
“Well, maybe it didn’t settle with you. You should try to get some rest.”
I roll over and close my eyes. The next thing I know, I’m being awaken to the sound of my phone alerting me to a message.
Are you ignoring my calls?
Shit! It’s Tommy. I quickly message him back.
No. Sorry. I’m sick and was sleeping.
I urge my phone to vibrate, but nothing comes in. I begin to feel dizzy and can longer keep my eyes open.
“I feel awful. I don’t know why I drank last night.”
I bite my bottom lip to hold in my laughter. “I don’t know why either. Do you remember making out with Davis from the debate team?”
“What?!?!?! You’re kidding right?” She asks as she grumbles and pulls the blanket over her head.
“Um, no. When I went to grab you, you were making out with Davis in the corner.”
“Fuck! This is not going to be good!”
“Well, I don’t think anyone really noticed and if they did, they didn’t say anything. Would you like something to eat?”
“Yes, but I would like something light.”
“Is soup alright?”
“Yes. I would love some soup.”
I come back in the living room with her soup as the model show is ending. I place the bowl of soup with a few saltine crackers on the TV tray. I go back to the kitchen to grab a light colored soda. Great, another episode with stick thin models appears on the television. I swear, these girls would stop bickering with each other if they would eat something! Most of them are far too thin, in my opinion.
“So, how did it go with Tommy last night?”
“It went great,” I hold my hand out and show her the ring.
“Did he propose to you?”
“No, this is a promise ring. He promised to love me and protect me.”
“Abigail, that is so, um, sweet yet corny at the same time. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
I ignore Katherine’s snide comment and put my hand back in my pocket. How is it that she can be so shallow sometimes? Is it because she’s jealous? Whatever the reason is behind her attitude, my patience is starting to wear thin. I try to shake the feeling of anger. I’m not an angry person, usually, and this is abnormal for me to feel like this toward Katherine. “So, do you want to have dinner at my house on Friday?”
“Well, I don’t really know what my plans are for that day ,” Katherine says, matter-of-factly.
“If you come over for dinner, you can stay the night and we can go shopping for graduation dresses on Saturday.” Mike owes me. I just offered myself up for a day of torturing at the mall so Mike could ask my friend out.
“Ok, I’m down for dinner and a sleepover.”
“Cool. I’ll pick you up for school on Friday and you can put your overnight bags in my car.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Awesome. I’m going to head home now. There’s some more soup in the fridge if you get hungry later.”
“Thanks, Abby. I love you girl.”
“Love you too, Katherine.”
On the drive back from Katherine’s my stomach starts to turn. I hurry to get home because I feel like I’m going to throw up. Maybe Katherine’s sickness isn’t necessarily from the alcohol she drank. I’m wondering if she has a touch of the stomach flu.
I pull into the driveway and screech to a halt. I jump out and run to the nearest place to vomit; the flower bed. My parents heard my abrupt stop in the driveway and rush out of the front door. My dad holds my hair back with one hand while holding me around my waist with the other to keep me from falling over. When there is nothing left in my stomach, he lifts me in his arms and carries me to bed.
My mom is fretting around me with a thermometer and a cool wash cloth. “You don’t have a fever, Abby. What did you eat today?”
“I had some eggs and toast with orange juice this morning.”
“Well, maybe it didn’t settle with you. You should try to get some rest.”
I roll over and close my eyes. The next thing I know, I’m being awaken to the sound of my phone alerting me to a message.
Are you ignoring my calls?
Shit! It’s Tommy. I quickly message him back.
No. Sorry. I’m sick and was sleeping.
I urge my phone to vibrate, but nothing comes in. I begin to feel dizzy and can longer keep my eyes open.
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