Don't Speak

Chapter three

Chapter three

Oh, God. What’s that noise?

I roll over and groan, gripping the blanket and pulling it over my face.

“Wake up, sleepy head!” Amanda jumps on top of me, ripping the blanket from my hands and off the bed. I roll onto my stomach and put the pillow over my head. “Go away,” I mumble into the mattress.

“Come on, grumpy. Get up or we’ll be late!”

Turning onto my back again, I roll onto my side and push myself up, trying to lift my heavy head. I stretch my neck from side to side, reaching my hands to the ceiling and yawning. I look around as I drop my hands. I’m on a single bed in a small room, still in my clothing from last night. My brain is throbbing and my mouth feels like sandpaper.

“What time is it?” I croak.

“Around ten a.m.”

“Ten? Why the hell did you wake me?”

She laughs, walking out of the bedroom. I get a whiff of vomit and look down. The ends of my hair are tangled and covered in sick and tissue is hanging out of my top.

Nice.

What the hell happened last night? My brain isn’t functioning enough yet to recall a single thing, but the pounding between my eyes tells me I probably drank more than I should have. Forcing my aching limbs to move, I get to my feet, pulling the tissue from my top and pulling my hair back. The room spins around me and I place my hand on the wall for balance. Dragging my feet, I walk from the bedroom and find my way into the kitchen, glancing at all the empty beer cans and bottles crammed on the kitchen side. The place stinks of alcohol and nicotine, and it’s making me want to puke. Amanda is sitting at the table, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other, smiling at the screen. I pull one of the wooden chairs out and plonk myself down.

“I took one of your cigarettes from your bag, hope you don’t mind?”

I shake my head. “What are you smiling at?”

“Chris is messaging me.”

The minute she says his name, blurred images flicker before my eyes; smoking weed, dancing with Shane, me in his arms on the couch, our lips locked together…oh, my God.

I throw my head into my hands. “I kissed him, didn’t I? Shane, I mean.”

Amanda snorts, placing her phone on the table and wandering into the kitchen. “More like made out with him.” She looks through cupboards and finds two glasses, walking to the sink and filling them with water.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I’m not you’re mother,” she says, placing a glass in front of me. “Anyway, you looked pretty comfortable from where I was standing.”

“Shut up.” My voice turns high pitched whilst trying not to laugh. “Did you and Chris…you know?”

She sits back down, taking a sip of water. “Jesus, I’m not a slag, Ella.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say softly, looking to the floor.

She giggles, leaning over and poking my rib. “I’m kidding, idiot. But no, we didn’t have sex, we just kissed…and stuff. Anyway, come on, we need to get ready.”

I frown. “Huh?”

She giggles. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

“Forgotten what?”