Billy Carter

Chapter 16: 17

I woke up with a head-splitting headache at eight the next morning. I squinted around my bedroom and didn't realise Blue Jean was snuggled up to my chest until she stirred in my arms. I carefully untangled my legs from my bed sheets and eased up into a sitting position. My back was sore and aching, and my head was pounding like one of Trent's drumbeats. Blue Jean opened a sleepy eye at me, then closed it again. I scratched behind her ear and smiled at her, remembering she was mine. If I felt better later I'd take her for a walk - a short one, since she only has little legs. Maybe just around the block. I started to get up and dizziness overwhelmed me suddenly, I felt like I was going to vomit. I sat down again and tried not to gag until the room stopped spinning. It sort of didn't. Holy fuck, am I still drunk? I thought. My stomach grumbled, and I wasn't sure whether I felt nauseous because I was hung over or because I was so hungry. Coco Pops, I need Coco Pops... And some nice greasy fried chicken would be good too.
I stumbled slowly downstairs, holding onto the banister with both hands (my legs felt like jelly) in nothing but my boxers, a stretched out Ramones t-shirt, one dirty sock and sunglasses (the sun was too bright, and the curtains were wide open, letting the blinding light inside unfiltered). Blue Jean couldn't figure out the stairs, so I had to go back up again and bring her down, then she followed me into the kitchen. I made myself a bowl of cereal (wincing at the bright fridge light when I got the milk) and gave Blue Jean some dry food in her sunny yellow, ceramic bowl. We both munched happily, then Mum and Dad came in the front door.
"Oh, hello!"Mum said cheerily. I looked up at her silently, letting the sunglasses and Coco Pop stuck to my milk-covered chin speak for me. Mum quickly snapped a picture of me on her phone, then Blue Jean bolted over excitedly and they both gave her a pat. "Hey there Blue!" Mum picked her up and gave her a cuddle. Dad smiled and scratched under Blue Jean's chin while Mum held her. Dad had a couple plastic shopping bags in his hands, and he left Mum and Blue Jean behind to come into the kitchen and start putting the groceries away. He tossed a packet of painkillers over his shoulder, and I didn't know how - whether it was skill or just dumb luck (either way it was impressive) - but they landed directly in front of me on the kitchen table, barely missing my almost-finished bowl of cereal.
"Oh, thank you," I said, opening the little box.
"Belated birthday present." Dad grinned at me over his shoulder. "How're you feeling kiddo?"
"Rubbish. Not too bad though, considering I can't remember much of last night."
"Oh, you had fun," he laughed.
"I thought so, considering I need sunglasses to open the damn fridge," I smiled. I felt like crap physically, but emotionally I was happy.
"Oi, language," he warned halfheartedly. I know Dad didn't care how I talked as long as it wasn't malicious, but it annoyed Mum.
"Did you sleep on Billy's bed last night?" Mum asked Blue Jean, who was wagging her tail happily. "Lucky girl!"
"Yeah, I woke up and she was there. I don't remember bringing her to bed though - you'd said to leave her outside." I looked from Mum to Dad. Mum grinned like a Cheshire cat and combed her fingers through my hair.
"Your daddy's a big softy on the inside," Mum told me in a loud whisper, like it was a secret she wanted Dad to hear.
"Am not," Dad scoffed. "She was outside scratching on the door and whining and crying. I couldn't sleep, so I let her in and popped her on your bed so you could deal with her."
"I can't help that all the bitches love me," I said with a grin.
Mum rolled her eyes and sighed, "Oh, William."
"You've got another present, if you want it - but I don't think you will," Dad told me, sounding irritated suddenly. He turned around to face me and lifted himself up to sit on the kitchen counter.
"Yeah?" I asked curiously. He sighed and glanced at Mum.
"Well, your father wants to give you something for your birthday too," he said.
"What? Why does he want to give me something? What is it?"
"It's a large sum of money - meant for a car, for you to learn to drive in - but he's happy for you to spend it on something else or save it if you'd rather do that," Dad said. "I guess he wants to buy you over." He took an envelope out of his back pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of me. There was clearly money in it, and written on the front in a black permanent marker was "Happy Birthday".
I felt like I was going to hurl then and there, and it had nothing to do with my hangover. I picked it up, stormed over to the bin, and threw it in without any hesitation. I looked up at Dad. "You are my father," I told him. "That guy," I pointed into the rubbish bin and looked back up at both of my parents. "That guy doesn't exist. I don't want to hear from him or about him ever again; if he sends anything else, I don't want to know about it. If he tries to ring, I don't want to know about it. If he's in town, if he's sorry, if he wants to meet, if he's sick and dying, I don't want to know about it. He doesn't exist."
Mum and Dad looked at each other, then Dad got off the counter. "Fair enough," Dad said. Mum opened her mouth to argue, then she shut it again. A moment later she looked at me very seriously.
"Are you sure?" She asked. I nodded, but stayed silent. She sighed and smiled glumly at me. "I'm sorry you have to go through this," she told me. "If you change your mind I'm happy to tell you whatever you want to know."
"Ok," I said. "Don't hold your breath."
"Come on, go put some clothes on and we'll go get ice cream," Dad told me, giving me a reassuring smile. "If you don't feel too bad."
"I don't know, I'd like to, but I don't trust my stomach," I told him, rubbing it absentmindedly.
"That's alright, do you want to watch a movie then? We bought a DVD player today - it was on special - and we rented a couple movies. We got you Harry Potter!" Mum said in a sing-song voice.
"Oh cool! Sure." I picked up my dishes and carried them over to the sink. "I'll just wash these first."
"Alright, and I'll pop something on while you do that then," Mum said, going into the living room. Dad called Blue Jean and she followed him and Mum around the archway into the living room.
I washed up, then I raced outside into the backyard - I knew I wasn't going to make it upstairs to the toilet - when my stomach took a sudden turn for the worst and decided it had to empty itself. I vomited another couple of times throughout the day, and my hangover continued into Monday - minus the vomiting.