the one who will be taking an ass whooping for letting me drink so much." I gritted out through teeth that refused to stop clenching because if they do all hell was going to come up and my teeth were happy with not re-tasting "what shall not be named."
"hmmmmm" I heard TJ groan next to me.
Rachel joined in on the conversation like someone had called a meeting in the bedroom. "And who gave ya'll fucktards permission to sleep in my momma's bed?" Swinging her neck from side to side and snapping her fingers, she continued on with her little tirade "ya betta not have gotten shit on those sheets cuz I'd really have to whoop yo' ass. Plus, I don't feel like doin sheets and the maid don't come in til Monday."
Suddenly, no matter how hard I clenched my teeth, my stomach decided to make the decision for me to unclench them. Running to the bathroom, I noticed TJ sat up quickly in bed. I made it to the toilet before all hell broke loose. How could I possibly still have had food in there after throwing up as much as I did in the middle of the night and then this morning, I think to myself.
I stopped heaving for a moment and reached over and slammed the door shut and took a breath. I laid the tip of my forehead on the toilet seat and prayed nothing else came up. Too late, round two began. Ten minutes later I began round four. This continued for an hour. Finally, a reprieve. I washed my hands and swished mouthwash in my mouth and headed for the kitchen.
As I walked out in the kitchen, all heads jerked my way. Everyone looked like zombies. Faces were pale, eyelids rimmed with red and it looked like they were moving in slow motion.
I grumbled, "Mornin' ya'll…Babe, can you take me home, I'm still not feeling well."
"Sure, just let me get my things." TJ mumbled back, I think he was still drunk.
"Rach…Lils, call me later, love ya Curt … Bear."
"K babe…bye, Elle" I heard from Rach and Lilly.
"Love you Elle, feel better" Curt said.
"Bitch" Bear groaned.
This was his normal greeting or farewell. If he didn't call you a Bitch or a Mother-fucker, you weren't a friend of his.
I slept the whole way home. Hearing the truck door slammed, I figured we were home. I heard the passenger door open and I felt TJ grab me up in his arms. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. My step mom, Mona of course opened the door.
My momma passed away when I was four. She was in a car accident and my daddy had never been the same, because the love my momma and daddy shared would never be replaced; she got to go and forget him, he didn't get that option. When my momma died, half of daddy died too. The other half belonged to me. He was the other love of my life. My daddy, Maxwell Winston Harper III was a doctor and he loved what he did. He was the town's general practitioner. He had seen everything from small items lodged in kid's nostrils to delivering babies. He had never practiced anywhere else.
When I was ten, daddy thought I needed a female figure in my life, this is where Mona came in, but Mona isn't a female figure, she's nothing but white fuckin' trashed dressed up in my daddy's money.
"Mornin' Trevor, I see my golden child was up to her old ways." Mona knew me well because this was a summer routine for me, but they didn't worry too much because they knew that TJ McHale was a gentleman. He would never do anything that would bring shame to the Harper name. My family was "sixth generation Richland Harper's. This meant that we "Harpa's" had a reputation to uphold. Mona was a trophy wife who hung out at the golf course, ate red meat and drank red wine. Of course she was sensible about it. She only got drunk behind closed doors. She'd try to pick fights with daddy about why he didn't want to be around her anymore and that she was lonely. She'd even give him ultimatums and he would remind her drunk ass that she's the one who signed the pre-nup and that if she decided to "go out and get it somewhere else" she wouldn't get a cent. So she'd
"hmmmmm" I heard TJ groan next to me.
Rachel joined in on the conversation like someone had called a meeting in the bedroom. "And who gave ya'll fucktards permission to sleep in my momma's bed?" Swinging her neck from side to side and snapping her fingers, she continued on with her little tirade "ya betta not have gotten shit on those sheets cuz I'd really have to whoop yo' ass. Plus, I don't feel like doin sheets and the maid don't come in til Monday."
Suddenly, no matter how hard I clenched my teeth, my stomach decided to make the decision for me to unclench them. Running to the bathroom, I noticed TJ sat up quickly in bed. I made it to the toilet before all hell broke loose. How could I possibly still have had food in there after throwing up as much as I did in the middle of the night and then this morning, I think to myself.
I stopped heaving for a moment and reached over and slammed the door shut and took a breath. I laid the tip of my forehead on the toilet seat and prayed nothing else came up. Too late, round two began. Ten minutes later I began round four. This continued for an hour. Finally, a reprieve. I washed my hands and swished mouthwash in my mouth and headed for the kitchen.
As I walked out in the kitchen, all heads jerked my way. Everyone looked like zombies. Faces were pale, eyelids rimmed with red and it looked like they were moving in slow motion.
I grumbled, "Mornin' ya'll…Babe, can you take me home, I'm still not feeling well."
"Sure, just let me get my things." TJ mumbled back, I think he was still drunk.
"Rach…Lils, call me later, love ya Curt … Bear."
"K babe…bye, Elle" I heard from Rach and Lilly.
"Love you Elle, feel better" Curt said.
"Bitch" Bear groaned.
This was his normal greeting or farewell. If he didn't call you a Bitch or a Mother-fucker, you weren't a friend of his.
I slept the whole way home. Hearing the truck door slammed, I figured we were home. I heard the passenger door open and I felt TJ grab me up in his arms. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. My step mom, Mona of course opened the door.
My momma passed away when I was four. She was in a car accident and my daddy had never been the same, because the love my momma and daddy shared would never be replaced; she got to go and forget him, he didn't get that option. When my momma died, half of daddy died too. The other half belonged to me. He was the other love of my life. My daddy, Maxwell Winston Harper III was a doctor and he loved what he did. He was the town's general practitioner. He had seen everything from small items lodged in kid's nostrils to delivering babies. He had never practiced anywhere else.
When I was ten, daddy thought I needed a female figure in my life, this is where Mona came in, but Mona isn't a female figure, she's nothing but white fuckin' trashed dressed up in my daddy's money.
"Mornin' Trevor, I see my golden child was up to her old ways." Mona knew me well because this was a summer routine for me, but they didn't worry too much because they knew that TJ McHale was a gentleman. He would never do anything that would bring shame to the Harper name. My family was "sixth generation Richland Harper's. This meant that we "Harpa's" had a reputation to uphold. Mona was a trophy wife who hung out at the golf course, ate red meat and drank red wine. Of course she was sensible about it. She only got drunk behind closed doors. She'd try to pick fights with daddy about why he didn't want to be around her anymore and that she was lonely. She'd even give him ultimatums and he would remind her drunk ass that she's the one who signed the pre-nup and that if she decided to "go out and get it somewhere else" she wouldn't get a cent. So she'd
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