Heavy Hitter by Stacy Borel

Author:Stacy Borel [Borel, Stacy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stacy Borel
Published: 2019-04-25T18:30:00+00:00

Ashton

WARMTH FROM THE SUN beat down on my face as I groaned and burrowed into my pillow. Why did God have to make that damn thing outside so bright? My head was throbbing, and my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth. I briefly wondered if I had a bottle of water on my bedside table but figured it would take too much energy to lift my head to look. Jesus! No way did I drink so much that it would make me feel like this. The pounding in my head was making me feel like I couldn’t think of anything other than quenching my thirst and digging in the medicine cabinet for some aspirin. I rose, and my hair that I’d left in a messy bun flopped onto my face. Reaching up, I touched the tangled mess and snickered. This was clearly going to be a great day.

It took me two seconds to catch up and remember that last night ended in a complete train wreck. A twinge of embarrassment flitted through my stomach when I realized that I’d made the colossal mistake calling my dad. Newly twenty-one-year-olds shouldn’t phone home when something as minor as getting stuck on the side of the road happened. I sat up and folded my legs under me. I put my face down in my palms and rubbed at my eyes, trying to wipe away the sleep and blurry vision.

I was never drinking again. And I need coffee and water, stat.

In the kitchen, my dad was standing by the stove, frying eggs. He had his back to me when I came in, so I slid onto a barstool as quietly as I could. The smell of the eggs made my stomach churn, and the thought of eating deep yellow, runny egg snot nearly had me running to the bathroom and puking up my guts. I sat completely still and rested my head on my bent arm. Honestly why anyone wanted to wake up like this was reason enough never to do it again. There must be a cure for a hangover. I truly didn’t want to believe that people found liquor to be enough fun for the consequences of the next day.

“Mornin’, kid,” my dad said, still facing away from me.

I didn’t think I had made any noise, but whatever. “Mornin’.” My voice sounded rough even to me.

He turned and gave me the full effect of his stare. I wanted to shrink down into my seat, but instead, I sat up and tried to square my shoulders. Unfortunately, it only reminded me that my head felt like it was going to pop under even a smidgeon of pressure, and I burped up something nasty. I thought I saw my dad smirk.

He appeared with two white pills and filled a glass with water, placing them in front of me. “Drink the whole thing. It’ll help with the nausea. Want some coffee?”

I let my shoulders droop. I tipped my head, and he went to make me a cup.

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