The Flynn Effect

14 | shop till you drop

Jo

IF MY VISION blurs one more time, I'm positive I'll fall asleep on the counter. Mum stalks into the kitchen with a brownish red robe around her body and her bird's nest hair has a peculiar similarity with mine.

Swollen lids, dark eye bags and an eyecrust she's currently pushing out of her eye with her finger, she's an apt illustration of an overworked woman who just had a very unsatisfying nap. "Having a hard time reading?"

I sigh over my cup of coffee and turn the novel I'm having a hard time reading due to fatigue over the counter, so that the cover faces me. "I'm so tired." I admit and wrap my blanket tighter around my body. I'm very much aware that this is as a result of the dreaded hangover I woke up to, but revealing that to mum would be like walking into a fire. Especially since she warned me not to drink.

She raises a brow at me. It's arched way too high. "Did you drink last night?"

"No," I grumble and look down and then I decide it's best to blame it on my diabetes. "I had a low when I woke up."

She turns to the sink and takes out a mug from a cabinet before rinsing it and placing it under our old coffee maker. "That explains it."

"I thought you were going to toss it out," I tell her as I watch the coffee maker hiss and rumble before hesitantly spitting out a jet of coffee into her cup.

She hits the top of the machine, the sound ringing in my ears unpleasantly and shrugs before taking the cup to her mouth. "This is a vintage coffee maker. It's been with us for nine years. Feels like my kid." I roll my eyes when she's not looking.

"Besides, it'd be hard to get this model again. Might as well use it till it dies." She leans against the island and stares at my face. "Did you have a nice time yesterday?"

In reality, I'm not sure I did. From people witnessing me having a low blood sugar and Craig asking me to hang out with him, it might as well have been one of the worst nights of my life. But then again, I may or may not have had fun while playing beer pong and winning money for Khalid. So I shrug and bring my covers higher up my neck and say, "It was okay."

She nods to herself. "That's good enough." She turns around and opens the cabinets, in search for something to do. She starts to tell me about how movie night with her mother went and how she couldn't stop fawning over Tom Cruise.

I finish up my coffee and stretch my hands, groaning as I do so. My phone buzzes with a text and I pick it up and send a quick thank you message in response to the sophomore who sent me a tutoring request as early as five in the morning. I'd accepted it without hesitation. My sessions with Flynn will be over soon and the bookstore doesn't pay that much. I still need money. I half-heartedly listen to mum and chuckle at something she says while lazily scrolling through social media. Posts from last night's party fill up my feed.

I zoom on a picture Amanda posted when I'm certain I saw my face and I narrow my eyes at the expression I'm wearing. My mouth is half-opened and my eyes are narrowed at Khalid who's grinning at me. Amanda has her teeth on full display at the center of the picture and Cass has an arm around her. I suddenly decide that I hate my side view.

A text appears at the top of my screen and I tap on it once I see it's from Flynn. It's a simple, direct and straight to the point text.