Chapter Ten

Donkey are staring at me and I can’t work out whether this is a nightmare, a dream, the punchline to a joke or the opening set-up to one.

What the absolute fuck am I doing in Donkey’s house?

“How are you feeling?” Jack says.

My eyes flit nervously from Jack to Zach like a frightened animal recently brought inside after a week sleeping rough in the city.

“You were kind of dead to the world for quite a considerable amount of time”, Zach adds.

My brain throbs against my skull, refusing to give up or back down.

“What? How? Where?” I stutter, desperate to curl up in the bed again and have the world swallow me whole, but unable to coordinate myself to get there.

This isn’t at all fair, Donkey look perfectly healthy and I feel like a husk of my former self. I never have much confidence in front of these guys anyway, but at least I’m able to hide my crippling fear when I’m sober, right now I feel as naked as I would without any clothes on.

“You asked us to take you home,”, Zach says.

“Begged us actually”, Jack adds.

I wince, imagining it, a hollow sensation gripping my belly.

“We figured you wouldn’t want us to drop you at your place, considering you couldn’t really speak at that point, so we brought you here”, Jack says. “I hope you don’t mind. Zach let me stay in his room while, you know.”

“I’m so sorry”, I begin, absolutely mortified. “How did we?”

“I had the car”, Jack says. “You probably don’t remember much of it, but it took a while to get you into the back.”

“Fuck”, I say, burying my face as much as I can into the palms of my hands.

“Don’t worry about it”, Zach says, “the party was kind of winding down anyway.”

“Marcy?” I ask.

“Still there when we left”, Zach says. “She wanted to come too but we convinced her we’d look after you.”

“Besides which”, Jacks adds, “she was kind of busy, if you know what I mean.”

I want to smile, but I can’t. I can’t do anything but stand here, paralysed, and hope that whatever the fuck I’ve done can eventually be undone at some near point in the future.

“My parents are going to kill me”, I say.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, your parents think you’re at Marcy’s”, Zach says. “You might not remember calling them.”

I shake my head my face reddening. What else don’t I remember?

“I’m not drunk, I promise”, Jack says, a huge smile breaking out across his face. “I’ve only had a couple of beers and that was ages ago.”

“They’re going to kill me”, I say again, the desire to cry beginning to overwhelm me.

“It’s alright, I spoke to them as well”, Jack says. “We covered for you. They were fine.”

“And what happens when I get back, stinking of alcohol and without Marcy?” I say.

“Stay here as long as you want”, Zach says. “It’s cool with us. It’s been a long time since you’ve been round here.”

“We’ll cover for you too, so you don’t need to worry about that”, Jack reassures me.

“What about your parents?” I ask, it suddenly occuring to me that getting me up to this bedroom without them finding out might have been a bit complicated.

“Mom and Dad have got there own problems”, Zach says. “They don’t know you’re here.”

“Thank you”, I say. “You didn’t have to-.”

“That’s cool”, Zach says.

“But I should, you know, I mean, I’m not really thinking straight”, I stutter.

Here I am in Jack’s bedroom, alone, with Donkey, and all I can think of is why this isn’t different and how much I want to escape. I hate myself right now, and this scene should be so different. If I hadn’t had some kind of alcohol induced false confidence boost, I might have woken up this morning in this same room, with these two either side of me. Instead, like some alcoholic in need of constant surveillance, I’m rescued, monitored and left to sober up with a towel underneath me just in case I can’t help puking. This is so embarrassing and I need to get out of here right away, regardless of what my parents say.

My head is throbbing so badly I can barely see, but it’s not enough to keep me here. I stumble towards the bed, prop myself up momentarily and catch my breath.

“There’s no rush, Jenny”, Jack says. “Seriously. Your parents were cool when we spoke to them and you’ve barely had enough hours of sleep to get your head together properly.”

As much as I want to stay, I’m too embarrassed to do so. I can’t help but think that any opportunity I may have had with these two has now evaporated completely into thin air. So much for the super confident Jenny that literally tore her dress off to get into the pool, this meek and insecure Jenny is a world apart from that one, but unfortunately much closer to reality.

I don’t deserve these guys at all. I don’t even deserve to fantasize about them. And then, suddenly, a new worry hits me. My bag, my notebook, my secret world.

“My bag”, I stutter in panic, my skin turning cold. “Fuck, guys, my bag. What did I do with it?”

I spin around, as much as my hangover will allow, about to die of fear when Jack speaks up. “It’s here”, he says, reaching for it. “I hung it up behind the door for you.”

I take it, tentatively, unsure if I want to find out if my notebook is still inside or not.

“Are you sure you don’t want breakfast?” Zach says, “I can make you some eggs or something if you’d like.”

I shake my head, eyes on my bag, feeling the contents from the outside first, too scared to delve straight in. I can feel my phone, my purse, something that feels like it could be my notebook.

“Cereal?” Jack ventures, while I open the zip, but I’m too distracted to answer, too worried it won’t be here.

My heart skips a beat as I rummage inside, the contents rapidly moving from bag to palm and back again and then my hand from one side of the bag to the other. It’s not here.

I can feel the blood drain from my face and my knees go weak.

“Jen, are you ok?” Zach says, his voice a twist of concerned, matched in intensity with his expression.

“It’s not here”, I say limply, and while the meaning of that dawns on me, I remain paralysed and unable to move.

“What’s not there?” Jack asks innocently.

Adrenaline pushes my pounding headache to the back of head as the severity of this new situation dawns on me. I can cope with lying to my parents, waking up in Donkey’s bedroom after passing out in their arms, acting like an absolute tit at an end of year party, but this? If my secret about Donkey gets out, and they find out how I feel about them, my life as I know it, no matter how shitty it already is, will officially be one hundred percent over. I might as well join a convent. I certainly won’t be able to look Donkey in the eyes again.

“My notebook”, I mumble, and then not wanting to spend a single second longer in front of them, just in case they know already where it is, I rush through them towards the door.

“Jenny?” Donkey call in unison, while I bolt down the stairs, fly out of the front door and into the front yard without a single idea of where I’m going or how I plan to solve this.

Outside, a sudden rush of adrenaline and fresh air becoming too much for me, I can’t hold it back any longer.

Bent over double, my head throbbing so much I think my brain is trying to escape to find a new home, Donkey undoubtedly watching down on me from the window above, I emphatically let myself go.

If that wasn’t bad enough, it isn’t long before the sound brings out other spectators, until finally, through tear filled eyes I see my own parents approach, so tentatively, it makes me wonder if they recognise me at all.

At the point where I’m supposed to be beginning my adult life, and certainly not here, in this state, like a seasoned street drinker, I can’t help but think that it might be as good as over already.