Page 105 of Storm in a Teacup
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Linny
I lean forward in my bed with a groan. It’s been a while since I’ve been hungover and, my god, is my head pounding. I snatch my full water bottle from my nightstand and take a sip, letting out a, “Blech,” after the first taste, my mouth disgusting. I force myself to drink the rest of the bottle before I get up to pee. When I do stand, I immediately sit back down, bile rushing to my throat. I lean forward again with another groan.
My bed was empty when I awoke, which was surprising. I’m pretty sure I asked Ben to spend the night last night. Or, no, I think I asked to spend the night at his place? Did he stay here or go home? I don’t know. I feel like I would know if I got to spend another night in his arms.
“Oh god,” I say as a memory rushes back to me. I talked a lot about dicks last night. My hands cover my face. While nothing I said was particularly mortifying, or untruthful, I don’t love that I said it in front of my dad. He will never let me live that down.
Once I finally manage to get up, I wander into the bathroom. Oscar Wilde is not too far behind me, weaving between my feet as I sit down on the toilet. I sit there for longer than I need to,my stomach swimming. When I finally get up, I schlump into the kitchen to give Oscar Wilde his breakfast. The scrape of the spoon in the wet food can is too loud, making my head pound even more. I drop his bowl on the ground, then go back to my room, lying face-first on my bed.
A little while later, there is a cat loafing on my back.
When I can manage to move again, I fish my phone out from the sheets, doing my best not to disturb Oscar Wilde. I see a few texts from my sisters, my dad, Emma, and one from Ben. I open the one from him first.
BENNY: Drink water, please
But that’s it. I hate that I’m disappointed. I mean, it’s still a nice text. I heart the message, then change my mind and throw a thumbs up on there instead, hoping he did not see the heart.
I meant the heart, though. I release an audible sigh. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
There were moments last night, as there have been so many times since I’ve met him, where it wasjust him. We were on the crowded dance floor, yet all I could see was him. We were sitting at the dining table with my whole family, but he was practically under a spotlight in my vision. Mel was actively getting married, but one glance at him sitting in the pew with my parents, and I was done for. He was the only other person in the room.
I go through the rest of the texts. First, from Emma, confirming lunch plans for next week and making sure I’m going to yoga on Wednesday. I say yes to both. Then I move on to the messages from my family. I’m supposed to meet them for brunch at the hotel where the rest of the bridal party and my family are staying. In thirty minutes.
I groan for the millionth time this morning, then carefullynudge the cat off my back. I drag myself into the shower, another day gone without washing my hair. When I get out, I braid it in two French braids down my back. Then I wander to the window to check the weather. It’s sunny, so I think I should put in my contacts, even though my eyes are screaming at me not to. I want to wear sunglasses, though. I should invest in prescription sunglasses, but switching from glasses to sunglasses sounds annoying. I already have trouble keeping my sunglasses on in the shade, feeling my vision impaired by the change in light created by shadows.
I go back to the bathroom and put in my contacts, but I don’t bother with a stitch of makeup, not even concealer to cover the massive dark circles under my eyes. I wasn’t planning on putting on jewelry, but I spot a bracelet I haven’t worn in a while. I slip on the bracelet made of black tourmaline beads. Before I leave, I fill up my water bottle so I can take it with me, then I’m off.
As I lock the door to my building, I glance at the café. Ben’s probably in there, back in the kitchen. He didn’t say anything about taking the day off today. I could go in and say good morning. Pop in just to see him. But I don’t. I instead head the other direction toward the bus stop.
It’s very sunny, so the shade is very shady. My sunglasses stay on my nose in the sun, then get pushed to my head in the shade. I wait for the bus, my stomach still swimming. Oh god. I better not vomit on the bus.
When it comes, I choose a seat by the window, leaning my head against it and focusing on my breath. If I breathe slowly, I will not vomit. I repeat that to myself over and over in my mind so my body believes it.
After the bus finally comes to a stop, I find the hotel, following my nose to the dining area. My family is at a group of tables witha few of the other guests who stayed in this hotel.
I slide into the seat next to my dad. Before I even have a chance to say hello, I feel arms around my neck from the back. I recognize the perfume, so I don’t even need to look to know it’s Mel.
“Hello, Mrs. Parker.”
She giggles in my ear. “Hiya. Where’s Ben?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” my dad says.
“The café, probably. How should I know? Do I need to remind you two that Ben and I aren’t actually dating?” I clear my throat and say loud enough for everyone to hear, “Ben Pyeon and I are not dating.” No one reacts, because everyone already knows. “It’s over, anyway.”
Chelsea chuckles into her coffee.
“What?” I ask, glaring.
She toys with a strand of her red hair, giving me a classic big sister look that says she knows more than me. “You should be dating, though. I mean, he was massaging your feet last night.”
Mel slides into the open seat beside me. “From what I hear, you have a great love of his penis.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Ew, don’t say ‘penis’ to me this early in the morning.”
My dad grimaces. “The word she used excessively last night was ‘dick.’”
