Never Winter Again

Chapter Six - We're Not Kids Anymore

20 February 2020

Score: We're Not Kids Anymore - Cat Burns

Lydia

"Why do we do this to our bodies?" I whine, my face glued to the white table cloth. Gloria managed to somehow wake me up and drag me out of the room for breakfast. She's filled a plate with croissants and pastries and has ordered three espressos for me, which are lined on the table in front of me.

I have the feeling that I have been caught under a snow groomer. I have never felt like this, in my life. I feel like I've got the flu, and have had a sunstroke at the same time. My head is spinning and my throat hurts from retching.

I am a pathetic mess.

"I'm never, ever, drinking again!"

"If I'd known you'd take it this bad, I would have stopped you." Gloria says, the image of innocence.

"Yeah, right!" I lift my head up from the table. Stars erupt before my eyes. I shoot my hand up to cover my eyes. "Ow..." I howl. "The last thing I remember is you, laughing, as you held my hair back. Just admit that you were amused by my state."

"Lyds, you would have been amused by your state, if you could have seen yourself." Gloria bursts out laughing.

"Go on. Laugh."

"Sorry." Gloria tries to stifle her laughter. "So, you actually blacked out?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, after you were finished pouring your soul out into the toilet, I took your soiled shirt off, covered you with a towel and left you in the bath tub. Patrick and I went to look for Advil or Aspirin and Mark stayed to keep an eye on you."

That's weird! I swear I got to bed right after I stopped throwing up and that Patrick was there!

"How did I end up in my bed, wearing Mark's hoodie, then?"

"I don't know." Gloria shrugs. "When we came back, you were already asleep in bed, and Mark was nowhere to be seen."

"Wait, where did he sleep, then?" Alex and Nate had not let anyone in the boys' part of The Cabin the entire night, which meant that Patrick and Mark were forced to sleep in our living area. Gloria and I passed by a snoring Patrick, who had clearly fallen slept on the sofa on our way to breakfast. But where is Mark?

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Gloria nods her head at someone or something behind my back. Before I can turn around to see what it is, two hands land on my shoulders and squeeze. I wince and duck my head down.

"Ouch!"

"How're the walking dead this morning?" I hear Mark's voice from behind my back.

"Funny." I scoff. "Hilarious."

He squeezes my shoulders again.

"I feel horrific. And I blame you." I yank my head back and my eyes lock with his golden-brown ones.

Dark circles are surrounding his eyes. He looks pale and tired. There's an amused spark in his eyes, though, which makes me start laughing.