Page 62 of Tortured Whispers
I had a lot of sad moments, mainly when I was thinking about my father but none of them brought on the water. I was thankful. I never thought I’d be grateful for being sad. I’d be grateful for anything if it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with the drowning.
**
When I got to school, I saw Ashley at her locker and I was pretty sure she tried to call out to me but I was too nervous to stop and talk. I’d never had a friend before, so having to confront a friend about something they did that I didn’t like was well outside of my comfort zone.
I had to remember what my father said though. I had to step outside of my comfort zone if I wanted to get anything done. I made a mental note to talk to her after school. That way I’d have the entire day to work myself up to it.
I should have gotten it out of the way early in the morning though. Thinking about it during all of my classes made me sick with worry. When lunchtime came, I hid away in the corner near the front of the cafeteria hoping Ashley didn’t see me and try to come over. I didn’t even eat anything. I couldn’t tell if it was remnants from being drunk Friday night, or nerves but my stomach was immensely queasy.
My throat seemed to get tighter and my mouth drier with each passing class until the bell rang for the end of the day. I pushed out a deep breath and shut my eyes for a moment while I stood at my locker.
You can do this, Brooklyn.
You’re brave like a lion and Dad would be so fucking proud.
“Brookie, can we talk?” Ashley’s voice came from behind my locker. I closed the door and smiled at her.
“Yeah, we really need to,” I sighed. Looking into her doe eyes made me nauseous but I steadied myself. We moved into the parking lot and slowed at my car. “Ashley, Fwiday at your pawty there was this annoying fuckboy that wouldn’t leave me alone. I looked around but you weren’t there. I was getting shitfaced awound people I didn’t know and anything could have happened. It would have been nice if you at least checked on me.”
Ashley’s brows furrowed and I saw a flash of something in her eyes. In the next moment, I was concentrating on trying not to throw up all over the parking lot. My stomach was doing backflips though.
I couldn’t hear anything Ashley was saying because my spine involuntarily curled forward and I let everything go all over the asphalt. “Oh my god, Brookie,” Ashley jumped back and slapped her hand over her mouth.
Once I stood upright, I clutched my stomach and leaned against the car. I hated the taste in my mouth. I fished around in my book bag for a bottle of water. It tasted like heaven.
“Let me come to your house so I can fix you toast and play in your hair to make it up to you. I’m sorry I was a shitty friend.” She held my shaky hand in hers and pled to me with her eyes. “Come on, Brookie. I’m teaching you how to have a friend. Friends let friends apologize for doing fucked up shit.”
I sniffled and tucked wispy hairs behind my ear. I gave Ashley a nod. I watched the smile spread across her face and a glint flash in her eyes. “This will be fun,” she said. “I’ve never been to your house before. You always come hang out at mine. I’m excited.” She squealed a little bit and clapped her hands.
We got in our separate cars and I drove ahead so she could follow me. I couldn’t shake the nausea the entire time I drove. I wanted to get home as soon as humanly possible.
When I pulled into the driveway a sigh escaped me. Before I went into the house, I sent Cease a text.
Me: Feeling shitty again today. Ashley is gonna come over and sit with me for a while.
Cease: Is it your stomach again?
Me: Yeah. Kinda threw up at school in the parking lot. So sexy, I know.
Cease: I’ll be home early with tea and crackers. Don’t let her stay long.
Me: Okay. Love you.
Cease: Love you too, Kiddo.
Me:
Cease:
I got out and sucked in a quick breath to steady my nerves and my stomach. I led Ashley inside and showed her where the kitchen was. “I’m gonna change clothes and lie down,” I told her while she puttered around in the kitchen.
“Okay, Brookie. I’ll bring you some toast,” she chirped.
I went into the bedroom and changed out of my school clothes into a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of denim shorts. Before I could clean off the bed and move my unicorn journal, another wave of nausea hit and I dashed into the bathroom.
I hovered over the toilet and let everything come flying out again. My head pounded relentlessly and I let out a soft moan as I sat on the cool floor. “Brookie, you in here?” Ashley called from outside the bathroom door.
“Just a minute,” I replied, holding my stomach. Ashley let out a giggle and it sent me hurtling back to ninth grade. It was wrong. Just like it was back then.
