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Well, that’s just great.
I throw it on the ground and find my backpack in a chair resting in the corner of the room. I sift through the wrinkled socks and pants to find a reasonably clean shirt and stiff my arms into the sleeves, wincing as pain radiates through my shoulder and down my back. Looking around, I find my ski coat in a pile with my boots, sweaty socks, and snow pants. I dig through the pockets, pulling out the bottle of Vicodin and quickly swallowing a pill. The bitter taste sits on my tongue, making me cringe and wish I had taken it with some juice or water. I peak inside the bottle counting the five remaining pills, which would hardly last me today and tomorrow.
I need to find someone who sells on campus or ask coach if he knows a doctor who can give me a prescription. Honestly, with how fucked up my shoulder is, I probably should’ve canceled on the ski trip. I could barely ski yesterday with Seth. But I wanted to see Rachel. I wanted to spend time with her before the semester began.
I really missed her over vacation.
Laughter sounds waft inside my room and I realize everyone is probably gathered in the living room. Looking at the clock, my eyes widen as I see it’s nearly two o'clock in the afternoon.
Why the hell are they here? Shouldn’t they be at the slopes?
I really hope they haven’t been waiting on me this whole time. It will be dark soon. The day is pretty much wasted if they wanted to go skiing. Guilt stabs through my heart as I trudge through the hall and step lightly down the stairs, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. If I hadn’t gotten so trashed the night before, they would’ve been on the slopes, having fun skiing.
But instead they spent the day here.
All because of me.
“There he is!” shouts Seth, glancing over his shoulder while I meekly enter the kitchen.
“Did you sleep okay?” asks Rachel while I pour myself a fresh glass of cold water.
I nod, taking a long drink from my glass before saying, “Like the dead.”
“We were going to wake you, but Rachel thought it best to let you rest,” says Lucas.
I lean against the counter, looking down at them sitting in a small circle on the floor, holding cards with a stack in the middle. “What happened last night?” I ask, knowing I probably didn’t want the answer, but unable to fight the curiosity taking over.
Seth groans while Lucas purses his lips. I look between them, wondering who is going to answer first. None of them look very happy. Even Rachel is making a face and I worry I truly made a huge ass of myself.
“What?” I ask when no one answers.
“Well, you got shit faced,” says Seth. Good old Seth, never one to hold back when the truth is involved.
“You broke a vase,” adds Lucas.
I blink. “I broke a vase?”
Seth nods. “An expensive one.”
“How expensive?” I look around, but no one answers.
Rachel stands and strides towards me, taking my hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It doesn’t matter now,” she says with a sad smile. “We’re just happy we got you home safely.”
Her words don’t make me feel any better. In fact, they make me feel much worse. My mind reels, wondering why she seems so concerned now, wondering what I did to make her look at me with such sadness, with such pity.
I hate it.
I wrench my hand from her grip, wanting to go back upstairs and hide in bed, but knowing it would look strange. I know I shouldn’t feel angry, especially since they helped me get home, but I do. I feel angry with myself for being such an idiot, for letting others see how broken I feel.
“Hunter-” I hear Rachel begin as I turn around, but I don’t hear anything else.
“I’m going for a swim,” I say before quickly striding away.
My shoulders are shaking as I walk to the double glass doors, opening one and striding out onto the frosted veranda, barefoot. I focus on the stinging sensation of the snow piercing my flesh rather than the memories of my mother in the hospital and Rachel looking sadly upon me.
I don’t want to feel. All I want to do is act. I can’t bear allowing those memories overtake me. I can’t bear feeling so weak and powerless.
I hardly remember throwing off my clothes and jumping into the pool. The hot water seeps into my skin, loosening the tightness in my shoulders. I try to swim laps, but raising my arm over my shoulder hurts too much so I just lie there, staring up at the low grey clouds, threatening to snow, floating and welcoming the silence.
