Effects

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"ASHER!" he yelled, my bedroom door banging against the wall with the force of his entry. "HI!!"

Oh god. OH God. OH GOD. Owwwwwwww. I tried to cover my ears but even my hands made my head hurt. Wait, wait! My eyes flew open but it took them a few seconds to focus through the blinding pain. Dan!

"What are you doing in bed? It's time for school. Your mom said to come up and surprise you. Said I could be loud since your dad already left for work. Guess she knew I was a little excited. Hey, why aren't you happy to see me? What's wrong?"

I climbed over him, not caring about anything except making it to the toilet in time to empty my stomach. God I was sick. Lightning struck my head every time I heaved. This was NOT okay. I heard his footsteps in the hall but he didn't knock, instead he headed downstairs.

A few minutes later he knocked lightly, his fingertips tapping the door. "Do you need help?" he asked quietly.

I reached over and opened the door from where I was sitting on the floor.

"You're hungover!" he hissed, mostly amused. Asher, um, why? And how does your mom know? Did you get caught? I did this once and I thought I was going to die. I'm sorry you're sick."

"Slim" I moaned.

"Hey hey, that was a word! A very nice one" he said too loudly. He saw me flinch and quieted back down. "But uh, what's slim?"

I pointed at him.

"Is that Asher for 'Dan'? Cause if so you're gonna need a nickname too. I'll think of something. Or do you mean my zipper's down? Why don't you let me help you back to bed? I'll bring the trashcan."

I mostly hobbled back, keeping my eyes closed as much as possible. I hoped he wouldn't run me into a wall. I didn't let him go when he tried to put me back on the bed so we ended up laying down together. It hurt too much to lay on him though so I rested my aching head on my pointy, jagged, hard pillow again.

"I hate to do this but I really have to get to school. I've missed a ton and there are only three weeks left for me to catch up. Let me get you some water and stuff, okay? Maybe you'll feel better later and you can come in? If not, I'll stop over after school and check on you."

I obviously didn't want him to leave and I hated myself right now for last night and ruining our reunion. He was back though and that was going to have to be enough. "My no I... real.. Slim..." Thoughts played ping-pong in my bruised head: I really missed you. I'm so glad you're back. I'll try to get to class because I don't want to be away from you. What happened with your grandfather? Is he okay? I tried to contact you, I really did. I got your note but I couldn't get my phone. I'm sorry. But none of that came out. It was time to go pray at the porcelain altar again. I swear that I will never, ever drink another drop of vodka.

*** *** ***

"How are you feeling Asher?" My mom was sitting at the dining room table, a cup of coffee in her hands.

I didn't expect to see her. Uh oh, we were still using my full name. I pointed to my head and my stomach.

"Sit down. I'll get you some crackers." It wasn't a request.

I listened. I wasn't sure I could eat anything but she probably had more experience with this than I did.

"I'm disappointed in you."

Of course you are.

"I'm in a very awkward, difficult place Asher and I don't want to be here. I refuse to undermine your therapy but I can not have you acting like this. You obviously need help with something and I can't just hand you a notepad and work it out. I want to yell at you for an hour but you can't respond and that's not fair. But son, one way or another, you need to tell me what's going on with you. I stayed home today so I have all the time in the world. Why were you drinking last night?"

How did she think I was going to tell her?

"Is it because I wouldn't give you your phone?"

I shrugged my shoulders. Maybe. "Yah. Br no all."

"But not all? That's part of it but not the whole reason?"

"Yah. My..yy Iii no" I was frustrated.

"It's okay. You're doing great."

I smashed my fist against the table. It wasn't hard but it still hurt. Who did she think she was she kidding?

"No, Asher, listen to me... you are doing GREAT."

She was looking at me like she could see my soul, my heart, my frustration. "I" and then I switched to sign 'want talk but can't.'

"You ARE talking, Asher. The first time you learned, as a baby, it took a lot more than a week and a half and it will this time too. You have to keep trying. Don't give up on yourself. You're making progress and that's all that matters. It doesn't have to be quick or constant progress to count.

She didn't get it. I mean she did parts, but not the whole. I had to fingerspell it, I didn't know the sign for 'lonely' but I needed her to know I was. I pointed at her and then flicked my finger away. 'Slim' then away again.

She was staring at me and I wasn't sure who was going to cry first. It ended up being me.

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