A Day in My Life

The Aftermath

I woke up at noon with an even more pounding headache and memories flooded back into my mind.

I mostly just remembered the ride home with Dylan. Oh fuck. He said he was disappointed in me. I don't even know how that could feel so much worse than him being angry with me, and yet it did. He was always mad at me, he was never really disappointed in me...

I got ready, took a couple ibuprofen from a box I found in the bathroom, and then walked down the stairs.

"Hey guys," I said, trying to make nice.

I know Dylan said he wouldn't tell the others about last night but I couldn't be sure.

"Who's up for a game of soccer? Anyone? Dylan?" I offered hopefully, looking around.

Dylan scowled and stayed silent.

The others were apparently too engrossed in their video game to respond.

"Talen?" I asked, hopefully.

"Huh? Oh, uhh, maybe after this round," Talen said.

"You don't have to indulge her you know," Dylan said coldly.

"What? No it's alright," Talen said, helping me out as always.

Dylan rolled his eyes and continued to peruse what was in the fridge.

I walked over to the refrigerator to be nearer to him. "Oh, is that leftover pizza?" I asked, also pretending to be interested in the contents of the fridge.

"It's mine," he said sharply.

"Oh, well sorry I asked," I fired back.

"Cut it out, you two," Blake called from the couch.

The tension in the room was growing, but it wasn't like normal; it wasn't playful. It was moments like these when I realized how painfully similar Dylan and I could be. Probably why we were always butting heads. Too prideful.

"Don't tell me what to do," I responded to Blake.

"Don't talk back to him," Dylan scolded me, only flaring up my temper even more.

"You're not my dad!" I reminded Dylan.

"Hey," Blake warned. I could tell that he didn't want to start this never-ending conversation. It would be impossible to count just how many times in my life I had pulled the 'you're-not-my-dad' card since my parents had passed.

Usually I would back down after hearing Blake's warning, but not fucking today.

"You're not my dad either!" I yelled. "In fact, none of you are my father. So why don't you all just stop fucking trying to parent me for once!"

"Cut the bullshit, Dakota!" Blake yelled. "You're right, okay? I'm not your father, it would be a hell of a lot easier if I was because then you might actually listen to me!"

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with everyone ganging up on me, I tried to push past Dylan and go back upstairs.

He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back into the kitchen. "Ohh no. You're not going anywhere. After last night you at least owe it to me to listen to what we have to say."

My eyes shot up to meet his. Did he really just say that? 'After last night'? He said he wasn't going to tell anyone else! I should have known that was too good to be true.

"What do you mean 'after last night'?" Blake asked, voicing the inevitable question. "What happened last night?"

"Dakota came to me last night at about four in the morning begging me to give her nearly passed out drunk friend a ride home from a party. Oh and don't think that Dakota is such an innocent angel either. She had had plenty to drink too."