Turn To You

Turn To You: Chapter Eight

Todd decided to skip school the next morning, so there was no one around to keep me awake in my first couple of classes. In Spanish, we were learning a string of new words and I could barely pay attention to repeat them after Mrs. Santiago. By the time the last bell rang, I hurriedly grabbed my books from the locker and headed for the parking lot. I had to swing by and pick up Rhonda at her tennis game so that we could get home and get ready together. Her friend, Joe waved at me when I stopped the car in front of the courts and Rhonda climbed in.

"How is Joe?" I asked as she threw her bag into the backseat. We'd all grown up on the same street and Rhonda and Joe had been friends a long time. He was a tennis fanatic so they played together often. Rhonda liked sports as exercise because, she said, it was a fun way to stay healthy.

"Joe's great," she said. "He and this new guy he's been seeing seem to really have hit it off. He's thinking of moving in with him."

"But he's only 20," I said, alarmed.

"Geez, Asha. Who died and made you the moral police?" She was right, of course. What the hell did I know?

"Sorry," I said. "Joe's a grown man. He can move in or get married or leap off tall buildings in a single bound if he wants to. I guess maybe I am nervous about tonight."

"Don't be. Either everyone will hit it off or we'll all hate each other, but we'll still love you. Don't waste your worry on something so silly."

I tried to smile, but my stomach was still in knots. I drove home in fidgety silence until we pulled into the driveway, and Rhonda finally said, "That's it!"

"What?" I said, startled and somewhat alarmed.

"You! You're freaking out! I have the remedy for that. Come with me." She slammed the car door behind her and I followed her inside where she lead the way upstairs.

"Sit down," she ordered when we reached my bedroom.

I did as I was told, flopping onto the bed. She began sifting through her satchel, pulling out everything: a sweater, make-up, wallet, books...and finally, a flask.

"You need some alcoholic therapy," she said, shoving the flask at me. "Drink this!"

"Ugh," I said. "I don't drink Rhonda. It always tastes bad to me - bitter or burning. How you do it, I have no idea. But I don't like liquor."

"It's butterscotch scnapps," she said. "And trust me, you'll like it. It's better than cough syrup. It's sweet! Would I lie to you?"

I looked at her suspiciously.

"Oh c'mon. You're a wreck and I don't know why, but I promise you that this will make you feel better."

I sighed and took the flask from her. I opened it, tilted my head back and took my first gulp with my eyes squeezed shut - ready for whatever may come. I was expecting something revolting to assault my tastebuds, but instead, there was a syrupy toffee flavor. Rhonda was right - it was kinda good. When I looked at her, she laughed.

"You look so completely shocked," she said. "I told you, didn't I?"

"You win," I said. "It's definitely more pleasant than any other drink I've tried so far."

"Go ahead, have some more. I have the whole bottle around here somewhere."

"Ooh," I said. "Let's get more, then. Todd's driving."

She laughed. "Oh my, I've created a monster!"

I smirked and took another swig. "Hey, how did you get this stuff anyway?"