Painful Fridays
My stomach is burning. I crawl out of bed and to the mirror. Mascara is smudged under my eyes. I wipe off my face and begin re-applying makeup. I get as far as liguid, cream, and powdered foundation when my dad comes down. Before he can say anything, "My stomach hurts."
"What happened to your room?" I look around. Clothes are everywhere, clean and dirty. My makeup is all over the floor and my bed is an awful mess. My room is never like this. "I don't know." I stare at him, waiting for a response to my first statement. "Call your mom. It's her day today."
I try calling my mom several times. It begins going straight to voicemail. She turned off her phone. "She wont answer." I tell my dad. "Just go to you room. I'll take you there when she gets home." I crawl back into my bed and stare at the wall.
Afternoons
I wake up again at 2 in the afternoon. I find my way upstairs and to the couch. I watch whatever is already on the television until my dad decides to come back inside. I can hear him working in the garage.
"Your mom said she was on her way hours ago," my dad says, walking in from the garage. I keep silent, watching How It's Made. Figures. My dad decides to drive us to our moms. Great.
Deals
There is nothing to do here. One computer, several TVs, and one out-of-tune piano. I choose the computer. It isn't long before my mom shows up to take the computer away from me. Texting is all I really have to do. Who to text?
Jake: "Nathans unreliable his person bailed out on us can you please try Eric again?"
Me: "There's no way I can meet him. I'll try Ashley."
Jake: "Okay."
I go upstairs to my room. The smell of weed hits me hard. No wonder it smelled nicely downstairs. Then, I get an idea. I start looking around in my mom's closet. Jackpot.
