Reclaiming the Sand
Page 5
I sat up in bed, squinting into the darkness. My mouth was dry and my throat was on fire from dehydration. I crawled over a body sprawled out beside me in my bed. I had to look closely to see who it was and was relieved to find that it was only Dania. She had thrown up at some point in the night and the putrid smell of sick hung in the still air.
I started to heave and barely made it to the bathroom before I emptied the contents of my stomach in the toilet.
Why the hell did I do this to myself all the time? You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now. Alcohol and Ellie McCallum did not mix.
Shit! What time was it?
I stumbled to my feet and lumbered out into my tiny living room. I turned on the TV, ignoring the moans of protest from Stu and Reggie, who were passed out on my floor.
Crap. It was already nine thirty. My appointment at Black River Community College was in a little over an hour. I looked around at the state of my home and cringed. The place was trashed. And that was definitely puke on the carpet.
I kicked Stu’s leg, a little harder than necessary. “Get up!” I yelled. I yanked open the curtains, letting the morning light stream in.
Reggie screamed like a banshee and covered her face with her hands. “Close the curtains!” she shrieked. I kicked Stu again and he smacked my leg.
“Get up! I have somewhere I need to be!” I called out. I turned up the volume on the television, blaring it. Stu finally opened his eyes, glaring at me. Most people would be intimidated by the level of malice rolling off the tattooed guy with the buzzed head.
Most people weren’t Ellie McCallum. It would take a lot more than a glare from Stu Wooten to make my blood run cold.
“You need to make me some coffee,” he demanded, his voice sounding like he had been gargling broken glass. Reggie sat up, wearing only a bra that barely covered her boobs. Her short, brown hair stuck out from the side of her head and it was obvious by the dried funk on her face that she was one of the people who had vomited on my floor.
“You know where the coffee pot is. Make it your damn self. I have to get in the shower.” I headed back down the hallway toward my bathroom. “Reggie, put some clothes on and get Dania up. You all need to be out of here in twenty minutes.”
I slammed the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room.
I rooted through the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of pain reliever. I shook out four capsules into my palm and swallowed them. My head was pounding and I felt as though I might be sick again.
I hurried into the shower and sighed as the hot water hit my back. This time of the day, under the warm flow of water, was the only point I could really relax. Before my day could begin and screw up everything. I liked mornings. They made me almost…optimistic.
My mind flashed back to the sight of Flynn’s face yesterday. It had shocked me to see him again after all this time. Over the years I had almost convinced myself that he didn’t exist at all.
My denial was useful at times.
But seeing him had been like a fist to the gut. It had taken me back to a time I had tried hard to forget.
He hadn’t changed much. He looked a little older. But he still had that same out of control brown hair. He was still on the thin side and shuffled his feet when he walked. He still carried himself like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. And it was more than obvious his people skills hadn’t improved any.
He was still a freak.
So why did my heart flutter madly in my chest as though it wanted to break free? And why did my body buzz at the memory of a boy who I hated to remember?
My feelings toward Flynn were more complicated than ever. You would have thought after all this time the intensity would have faded into non-existence.
But every tangled, ugly, wild emotion was still there. And they slashed me open all over again.
I wondered if he had recognized me? Unlike Flynn, I had changed a lot about my appearance since I had left Wellsburg High School during my junior year.
Then I had been a punk teenager who dyed my hair a new color every week. I had worn my makeup thick, particularly the eyeliner. I had worn baggie clothes and a face full of metal. I had done everything I could to make myself as unattractive as possible. It had been my only defense.
Too bad it had never worked.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I raised my hand and wiped the condensation from the mirror and looked at my reflection.
Yeah, I had changed a lot. I wasn’t sure Flynn would recognize me now. Long gone were the nose, eyebrow, and lip rings. My hair was now its natural blonde and I wore it long, hitting the middle of my back. I didn’t wear makeup anymore. I had stopped bothering just after going into detention. Having my ass beaten for my mascara made me less than worried about my appearance.
I had gone au naturel after that. And it had stuck. I never went to the trouble again.
I wasn’t a bad looking girl. I didn’t hate myself enough to deny that. I was even sort of pretty. Though I would have given anything to get rid of the freckles on my nose and cheeks. They made me look like some innocent prairie girl.
And I was anything but innocent.
I was just on the side of too skinny but that had everything to do with not being able to afford food as opposed to choice.
So yeah, I was pretty if you didn’t look me in the eye. Because my eyes always gave me away. They were a cold, hard blue. There was nothing warm in my gaze. If it’s true that eyes are the windows to your soul, I knew that mine held no possibility for goodness.
Anything good had been killed a long time ago.
I started to heave and barely made it to the bathroom before I emptied the contents of my stomach in the toilet.
Why the hell did I do this to myself all the time? You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now. Alcohol and Ellie McCallum did not mix.
Shit! What time was it?
I stumbled to my feet and lumbered out into my tiny living room. I turned on the TV, ignoring the moans of protest from Stu and Reggie, who were passed out on my floor.
Crap. It was already nine thirty. My appointment at Black River Community College was in a little over an hour. I looked around at the state of my home and cringed. The place was trashed. And that was definitely puke on the carpet.
I kicked Stu’s leg, a little harder than necessary. “Get up!” I yelled. I yanked open the curtains, letting the morning light stream in.
Reggie screamed like a banshee and covered her face with her hands. “Close the curtains!” she shrieked. I kicked Stu again and he smacked my leg.
“Get up! I have somewhere I need to be!” I called out. I turned up the volume on the television, blaring it. Stu finally opened his eyes, glaring at me. Most people would be intimidated by the level of malice rolling off the tattooed guy with the buzzed head.
Most people weren’t Ellie McCallum. It would take a lot more than a glare from Stu Wooten to make my blood run cold.
“You need to make me some coffee,” he demanded, his voice sounding like he had been gargling broken glass. Reggie sat up, wearing only a bra that barely covered her boobs. Her short, brown hair stuck out from the side of her head and it was obvious by the dried funk on her face that she was one of the people who had vomited on my floor.
“You know where the coffee pot is. Make it your damn self. I have to get in the shower.” I headed back down the hallway toward my bathroom. “Reggie, put some clothes on and get Dania up. You all need to be out of here in twenty minutes.”
I slammed the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room.
I rooted through the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of pain reliever. I shook out four capsules into my palm and swallowed them. My head was pounding and I felt as though I might be sick again.
I hurried into the shower and sighed as the hot water hit my back. This time of the day, under the warm flow of water, was the only point I could really relax. Before my day could begin and screw up everything. I liked mornings. They made me almost…optimistic.
My mind flashed back to the sight of Flynn’s face yesterday. It had shocked me to see him again after all this time. Over the years I had almost convinced myself that he didn’t exist at all.
My denial was useful at times.
But seeing him had been like a fist to the gut. It had taken me back to a time I had tried hard to forget.
He hadn’t changed much. He looked a little older. But he still had that same out of control brown hair. He was still on the thin side and shuffled his feet when he walked. He still carried himself like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. And it was more than obvious his people skills hadn’t improved any.
He was still a freak.
So why did my heart flutter madly in my chest as though it wanted to break free? And why did my body buzz at the memory of a boy who I hated to remember?
My feelings toward Flynn were more complicated than ever. You would have thought after all this time the intensity would have faded into non-existence.
But every tangled, ugly, wild emotion was still there. And they slashed me open all over again.
I wondered if he had recognized me? Unlike Flynn, I had changed a lot about my appearance since I had left Wellsburg High School during my junior year.
Then I had been a punk teenager who dyed my hair a new color every week. I had worn my makeup thick, particularly the eyeliner. I had worn baggie clothes and a face full of metal. I had done everything I could to make myself as unattractive as possible. It had been my only defense.
Too bad it had never worked.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I raised my hand and wiped the condensation from the mirror and looked at my reflection.
Yeah, I had changed a lot. I wasn’t sure Flynn would recognize me now. Long gone were the nose, eyebrow, and lip rings. My hair was now its natural blonde and I wore it long, hitting the middle of my back. I didn’t wear makeup anymore. I had stopped bothering just after going into detention. Having my ass beaten for my mascara made me less than worried about my appearance.
I had gone au naturel after that. And it had stuck. I never went to the trouble again.
I wasn’t a bad looking girl. I didn’t hate myself enough to deny that. I was even sort of pretty. Though I would have given anything to get rid of the freckles on my nose and cheeks. They made me look like some innocent prairie girl.
And I was anything but innocent.
I was just on the side of too skinny but that had everything to do with not being able to afford food as opposed to choice.
So yeah, I was pretty if you didn’t look me in the eye. Because my eyes always gave me away. They were a cold, hard blue. There was nothing warm in my gaze. If it’s true that eyes are the windows to your soul, I knew that mine held no possibility for goodness.
Anything good had been killed a long time ago.
