From Eden

eleven

TW: TALK of substance/alc abuse
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When I woke up the following morning, I was alone. My bed felt particularly big once I remembered Chloe had stayed overnight, and when I checked my phone and had no messages from her, I began to worry. Little flashes of embarrassment made my skin prickle as I recalled cuddling up to her; I hoped she wasn't weirded out or uncomfortable by it. Fuck you, you fucking drunk.

That was the only thing I really remembered from the day before. I wanted to text Chloe badly just to ask her what the hell happened besides that, but I was scared she was upset with me. Maybe this newfound friendship was moving too fast. As hard as it was, I decided to give her some space and leave her be for a while unless she wanted to talk to me.

I stood up out of bed and felt my stomach lurch. I clasped my head in my hand when the pounding began, and groaned audibly at the fact that I was definitely hungover. I loved being hungover on a Thursday (totally not sarcasm)! Not that it mattered anyway, since I didn't have classes today. Abby's schedule was strange in the way where our first set of classes occurred Tuesdays and Fridays, and the second set was Wednesday and Saturday.

Groaning again, I made my way over to the bathroom to take a shower. I smelled awful, and I wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe I greened somewhere downstairs. As if on cue, when I turned on the water, my mom's contact showed up on the screen of my phone. I rolled my eyes and decided to pick up her FaceTime, knowing I wouldn't hear the end of it if I didn't. Reluctantly I shut off the water again, and laid down on my bed.

"Hey, Paige," Mom said once I picked up. I mumbled a greeting, still getting used to the pounding in my head. "Are you okay? Brooke told me yesterday was bad for you. What's wrong?"

I sighed, and after a brief pause, I decided to tell her what was going on. "I got really fucked up yesterday and I have no idea why" was what I began with in a harsh, rough voice, but then I remembered, and my heart sank. "No, I do know. I...I saw Jayvon yesterday. Not on purpose. In this restaurant."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Mom gasped and frowned, seeming genuinely sad for me. "Did he see you, or say anything to you?"

"No," I swallowed, wishing I would forget it all over again. "God, I think I need therapy again."

"And that's perfectly valid," She said quickly. My mother had been pushing me to go back to a therapist for a couple weeks now, even before I got the letter from Abby. I was always just too lazy to look for one, and go. "Do you want to talk about it with me?" I shook my head, wincing at the pain, and she nodded. "It's okay, we'll talk about something else. How was Abby's yesterday, and Tuesday?"

I groaned, and she sighed. One sore subject to another. "I had to talk to her for a little bit...it wasn't too awful, but I'll have to get used to it. I guess it's kind of exposure therapy right now; I'm becoming less scared of the studio." I didn't mention I left early yesterday.

"That's good," Mom nodded, and tried her best to smile. "You're doing well, Paigey. You're trying, and that's all you can do, baby. I know yesterday must have been a setback for you, but you're doing so much better. Your dad and I are proud, okay?"

I nodded slowly, staring at the wall. For some reason, I couldn't speak. All I wanted to do was quit Abby's, but I knew then that I couldn't. My parents were finally seeing the worth in me.

"How about Chloe?" She continued. "To be honest, I heard she came to see you last night at the house. I want you to tell me about it."

"God, Brooke never shuts up, huh?" My voice cracked when I said it, but it was true. What a fucking sister she was for spilling all the shit. "It was good, she just came over after she was done working."