I knew you before

Bipolar much?

When I woke up the next morning, I found that my head was squashed onto something hard and papery. I opened my eyes to reveal that I had fallen asleep on the floor with my head resting on a cardboard box. I rubbed my head, trying to remember what had happened last night:

Going to the party, being abandoned at the party, Nat taking me home and…

And the last bit was all a blur. Finally, I settled on the conclusion that I had fallen asleep and Nat had gone home. That jerk! He could have at least checked that I was comfortable! How had I even made it onto the floor anyway?

I checked the time on the big wooden wall clock that hung above that kitchen doorway. It read noon. Darn! My parents were going to be back soon. And I still hadn’t picked Sam up from next door. I rushed upstairs like a stair climbing cheetah (Did they even exist? Well, they did now) and changed out of my crumpled and rather smelly dress that I had fallen asleep in. I showered and washed my hair. Not being bothered too brush it or dry it, I wrapped it in a messy bun on my head and slipped on sweatpants and a t-shirt. That’s what teenagers wore in England right? All that Jack Wills stuff. My stuff definitely wasn’t designer. I mean £100 for a hoody? Come on!

Doing my new specialty cheetah impression back down the stairs, I burst through the door that I had left unlocked all night and remembered that I was in North Yorkshire – and it was cold. Very cold indeed. I dashed back inside to grab a hoody and made my way to the house on our right.

 Nat’s house.

Sheepishly, I rapped on the door so quietly that I doubted anyone would hear it. To my surprise, it creaked open and there before me stood Nat the-jerk-who-left-me-sleeping-on-a-cardboard-box. He smirked.

“Finally woke up then? Poor little Christi-Wisty got abandoned at a party!” he teased. Where had all this come from? He’d been nice at school! And at the party! So why was he being so, so, so… well, this?

“Look Nathaniel,” I said through gritted teeth, “is Sam here?” By the look on his face that said that he was alone in the house, I continued. “Have they gone out?”

“Yes actually. The two ‘love-birds’ went to the park”

What?

“What do you mean love-birds?” I asked. Surely he was teasing me again. Sam was way too young to have a girlfriend!

“Oh I’m only kidding. Do you think I’d let Marisa go out with someone related to you?” Ouch, that hurt. I wasn’t that bad was I? I mean, I was going out with a handsome Spanish boy who was taller and less ‘jerky’ as this idiot who stood in front of me.

Correction; I used to go out with him.

I did a quick, mental run of my suckish life:  My two year lasting boyfriend had just broken up with me (over email!), I lived next door to the world’s biggest douchebag, my new best friend was able to get drunk at a party within half an hour and my ex-best friend was now labelled with a sign that said ‘England’s biggest bitch’ and had possibly become my worst enemy.

I felt like I was living in a reality drama show…

And a lot of them weren’t even English.

“Can you at least tell me when they’ll be back? I told my mum that I’d have him home for lunch,” I said, desperate now.

“Oh I don’t know,” He continued in his mocking tone. “Once they’ve played on the swings a bit and then the see-saw. Oh yeh! Don’t forget the round-a-bout…” The immature child continued and I rolled my eyes. He was not worth my time and effort.