Last Year of Seventeen

Chapter 10 - Chicken Soup

My head felt heavy and the lights were blinding me. I barely slept at all and when I burp it still smells like alcohol. I have missed my first class and was already contemplating on missing the next. Staying home is not an option because Nelly will never stop berating me if she knew I missed school. Especially if it's because I went out partying all night.

I also have an apology to make.

Oh God, I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing. All I can remember was dialing August and then hearing her voice. But what I said for the rest of our twenty-eight minute phone call was all rumbled and hazy.

I found August in the library as always. I knew it was her free period and she'll be nowhere else but here. She was at the Front Desk this time and not stacking books like always. She looked up when I entered and smiled. I tried to read if her smile was inviting or mean but my throbbing head and the too bright lights made it impossible for me to open my eyes properly.

"Hello" she greeted. I slumped my weight over the counter, my head under my arms. I hadn't realized I've been dragging my body quite literally on the way here. I feel my limbs falling apart. I really should have stayed at home.

"Don't block the desk. Some students might come to check-out books." Her voice was kind but commanding. Firm and yet comforting. Just like how she sounded eight hours ago when I called her. I felt my face flush, and knew I was completely red. I groaned and kept my head down as I walked behind the counter, pulled a chair on the nearby table and placed it behind where August sat. I turned the chair so I could rest my whirling, reddening face comfortably at the backrest while my arms can serve as its cover.

August didn't say anything more. I can hear her scribbling and turning pages and sometimes would even whisper a word or a phrase. And somehow that got me falling asleep.

I jolted awake. Still August was there. Her back turned from me. Busy with her notes. It felt like a long sleep but when I checked my watch, not even ten minutes had passed. Still, I felt tired.

"You know" August suddenly said, she might have heard me stirred, "Just because we're fake dating doesn't mean you should be following me around. Why don't you go and find your friends?"

I grunted. My words are still trying to find their way back. They're just as hungover as I was but I answered her as best as I can, "I've associated them with alcohol. Seeing them might make me puke."

"Have you eaten?" August spun her chair to look at me, a motion that made my stomach churn. I shook my head gently. But even that rippled dizziness. I watched her as she picked up her bag, took out a lunch box and a stainless flask and prepared them on the space beside her desk. She laid out a banana and an egg sandwich cut in half, opened the flask and immediately I smelled that it was chicken soup. She poured a serving on the flasks' cup/top and placed it beside the sandwich.

She took half of the sandwich and went back to studying. I didn't move.

"Eat." She said finally. I guess she figured I was waiting for her confirmation that she did in fact, prepare this meal for me. Gently, I pushed myself nearer. I picked up the cup of soup which was still warm and even more gently sipped it. I felt like everything I would eat would further upset my already stirring stomach. But the soup calmed it down and slowly, the world started to regain balance. I moved to the sandwich after I finished the soup and was surprised with how hungry I already was. How does this taste better than Yanis' pâté?

I did feel a bit better after I ate. So I asked August, "Did you bring food especially for me?"

She scoffed, still not looking up from her book, "Don't flatter yourself Hughes. That's just my usual lunch. But since you're here it's impolite not to offer an invitation."