My own reality

17

The rage I feel makes me forget about my hangover. I burst out of the toilet to the lower floor where all the dancing happened. I don't need my returned memory to know that. Many people, mostly my age, lay sprawled around the dance floor, unconscious. I involuntary look up at the floor we were yesterday expecting to see the Cross twins and Tiara unconscious on the sofas, but the floor is empty.

A bartender wipes the top of his bar table. When he notices me, he smiles and waves. "Can I help you?"

"What time is it?" I ask.

He glances at his watch. "Two thirty,"

"AM?"

"PM,"

Shit.

The bartender smiles at me. "Worked here for five years but that look never gets old,"

"Do you by any chance know Ryan Cross?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah." He replies. "He and his sister, Piper, organised that party last night,"

Huh. At least I've got the day right. "Do you know where they are?"

"They left early last night,"

What the actual fuck. I have never felt so lost and hopeless in my life. They ditched me. No, it was a prank; a big fat dirty prank. All for what? Why would they do this to someone?

The bartender's smile fades. "Oh, you are one of them."

I look up."One of what?"

"Weirdo special,"

There it was again. That word.

"C-Can I ask you a favour,"

"Sure thing, kid." The bartender's warm smile returns.

"Can I borrow your phone?"

He hands it over and I mutter a 'thank you,'

There is only one person I can call. I search for her number and hit dial.

"Mom," I say. "I-I need your help,"

"Honey, I am a bit busy right now."

"Please, Mom..." I choke. I don't think I can hold in my tears any more. They start flowing out in uncontrolled fits.

"Are you okay?" she sounds concerned. For once.

"Just..." I say in a strangled voice. "I need you to pick me up,"

"Where are you?"

I stare out the window of my mom's car. The buildings swoop by in a grey blur.

Mom had let me cry everything out. She sat by me at the club amidst the passed out teenagers on the floor. I don't even bother to wipe the drying tears on my cheek.

"Want me to take you home first?" Mom glances over.

"I need to do something at school first," I say.

"What happened, Jason?" she asks.

"What do you care?" I mutter.

"I am your mother," she says, appalled.

"Now is when you want to start acting like one?" I snap. Maybe it's the anger boiling in my blood or traces of drugs from yesterday that makes me speak to her like this. But in another universe, I would have probably just ignored her.

"What are you talking about, Jason?" she asks.

I have held this in for a long time and I think it is about time I let it out. "I heard you and Dad fighting,"

"What?"

"You both said I was a mistake in your lives," I mutter.

Mom's face falls. "Jason..."

"Just drive, mom." I say quietly.

She disobeys. "We tend to say stupid stuff when we are angry,"

When I don't say anything, she continues; "That does not mean I don't love you,"

I stare at the buildings morph into trees.

"Jason, I love you so much."

"This is the first time you have said that," I say.

"Jason-"

"You are saying it because you are guilty," I continue. "Not because it's true,"

Mom goes quiet and concentrates on the road. I don't know whether she is angry or sad now. I don't care anyway. She never has. Why should I?

After freshening up and changing into clean clothes, I run to the main building and look for Tiffany. The hallway is buzzing with activity when I enter. I randomly ask people if they have seen Tiffany.

"I think I saw her in the bathroom,"

"Wasn't she in the cafeteria?"

"I don't know, try the chemistry labs,"

This is hopeless. I don't even know what I am going to say to her when I find her.

"Jason, are you okay?" Ryan asks me in the hallway.

"Yeah," I say, though I am panting and sweating from running around the school. "Have you seen Tiffany anywhere?"

"She's right over there," Ryan points at her across the hallway. She is closing the door of her locker.

I run over to her.

"Tiffany," I gasp and wheeze.

She turns to me and my heart skips a beat. Her eyes are red and puffy. She is from crying.

"Tiffany, I-"

"Don't," her voice cracks. She swallows. "Just don't."

She pulls out her phone and shows me a photo. It shows me kissing someone I don't recognise. Tiffany scrolls and the next is a video of me kissing the same girl. My hands explore everywhere, gripping her ass and pulling her hair. The next is a picture of me gulping down a bottle of Hennessy and another one of me in the crowd jumping to the music. The next is a video of me screaming 'I'm on the roof!' My arms are stretched out and I move as if I am losing balance yet I am seated on the stuffed sofa. I look like an idiot.

The next video catches my breath. It shows Piper seated on me and writing her name on my cheek. In the video, I smile and reach out to kiss her. She kisses me back.

I stare at the phone screen. "I was high, I-"

"Fuck you, Jason!" she snaps. "There is literally no way you can explain this,"

"Just let me...please,"

She crosses her arms. "Fine,"

"I was high...I..." I pause. I try to think of anything. But it soon dawns on me that she is right. I am the one who accepted Cooper's invitation, I am the one who sniffed the drugs and I am the one who kissed Piper.

"Exactly," she says. "I thought you were different...I thought you were better than this,"

I feel my eyes start to water.

"But you are not," she says. "You are just like every asshole I have dated before,"

"Tiffany..."

"And to think, you and Piper?" she says. "My fucking best friend?"

"How comes she gets to keep the title?" I ask. Trying (And failing) to lighten the mood.

"We are over, Jason Hunt." She turns around and begins to walk away.

I grab her hand. "I can make it up to you,"

"Don't you ever talk to me again," she pulls away and storms off.