AllFreeNovel
Share Us
High? No. I’m feeling way too down for that. Mellow, too. I’d think a high would feel better. Why do I feel like this? This sucks. I need to lie down. I should probably speak, but I can’t find the energy. My phone vibrates on the bar, lighting up and stealing my attention.
Olivia’s calling me.
Isn’t she supposed to be doing something? I can’t remember what.
“You going to answer that, Corey?”
Where’s my hand? Oh, in my lap. With a slow pace, I lift my hand, press answer, and lift the phone to my ear.
“Corey? Are you there?”
“Olivia.” God, that was a lot of effort.
“Is everything okay? You don’t sound right. Where are you?”
She’s asking a lot of questions. “Here.” I hand the phone to Nate, tired of talking, tired of sitting upright, and hope he can answer them for me. I lay my head on the bar, not caring about anything else.
“Oh, hey Olivia,” he says. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “We’re at a bar.” Another pause. “Well, yeah, he’s been drinking. We’re at a bar,” he repeats. “Oh. He’s not? Does he know that?” Pause. “He looks more stoned than drunk.” He starts talking some more and I lose track of what he’s saying, spacing out.
There’s a reflection on the shiny wooden bar that keeps flashing. It’s weird. I watch it for a while, not sure how long really. But then, hands are on my shoulders and I’m staring into pissed off brown eyes.
“Corey Kennedy, I’m going to kick your ass.” Olivia shakes her head at me. Her bangs are all messed up. Maybe from her hands or the wind. I don’t know. “Nate, help me get him to my car.”
At a snail’s pace, we walk to her car and I’m put into a seat. I almost nod off, but then I hear a door slam, jolting me out of my doze.
“You can’t drink with your meds, Corey!” she fusses. “What the hell were you thinking? It could have been a lot worse than you having this reaction. Why would you drink anyway? You know you’re not supposed to mix alcohol with antidepressants!” Her voice drones on and on.
Hm. Guess that’s why I feel weird. I forgot about being on the medication. All I wanted was to relax.
“Therapist,” I mumble, looking at Olivia while she drives, resting my head on the seat.
“What?” She glances at me before focusing on the road.
“Went,” I manage and then add, “Saw. Was stressed.”
Olivia is quiet, before the bulb lights over her head. “You went and saw a therapist? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I groan at her questions.
“You are so going to talk in the morning,” she warns.
“WAKE YOUR SORRY ass up!” Olivia yells as she pushes on my shoulder. I grunt, burying my face further into the pillow as I lie on my stomach. “I’m still pissed, so get up, Corey.”
“Olivia, I’m sorry,” I grumble, opening my eyes to see her sitting up in bed, covers bunched at her waist, and her arms folded over her chest. Memories of last night pour through my mind. Drinking on that medication is a big freaking no. “I didn’t even think about it,” I mutter as if it’ll help. When she doesn’t say anything, I push myself up and mimic how she’s sitting. “C’mere.” I pull her against me, but she doesn’t relax. “I said I was sorry, Olivia.”
Still, she doesn’t budge. “Tell me what happened from the beginning.”
Sighing, I wonder why it has to be right now, first thing in the morning. My sigh pisses her off.
“Don’t you dare act like this is annoying or whatever that damn sigh means. I deserve an explanation, Corey. The pill bottle clearly says, ‘Do not mix with alcohol.’ You did anyway and apparently, you went to see a therapist.” You would think she’s pissed at me for going by her tone. “That should have been a big freaking reminder that you aren’t supposed to drink!”
“I told you, I didn’t think about it.” I really didn’t, but if I had, I’m not sure it would have mattered. Drinking after a long day was a normal thing for me, and not being able to do that shows just how far away from normal I am.
“You better think about it next time,” she snaps. “You were so spaced out and slow. How were you planning on getting home? Even without the medications added in, you were being stupid and careless.”
“I would’ve gotten someone to call a cab, or I would’ve called you. Even drunk, I know better than to get behind the driver’s seat.” I take a deep breath instead of sighing, so I don’t get bitched out again. “All I wanted was to relax and unwind. That’s it.” She relaxes only a little against me as I try to soothe her. “As far as the therapist—” Her body tenses again as she interrupts me.
“Why didn’t you tell me? When did you schedule it? How did it go?” The last question has more curiosity than anger in it.
