American Honey

Tommie barely puts the pale blue bucket in front of my face before last night’s whiskey rushes from my body.

“Jesus, you’re a mess, sis.”

“I know,” I whisper.

Sitting on the toilet, I listen and allow the two to clean me up to a decent state.

“Did you hear anything Scarlett just said?” Tommie asks.

“Yes, I heard it all last night too. Too bad Finn’s so freaking nice with a heart of gold and can’t stand up to Kara. Enough said. Story over.”

“Two minutes,” comes Will’s voice.

The sound of his truck running outside in the driveway is an audio reminder, he’s not screwing around.

“This will have to do,” Scarlett says.

Rising up and still feeling intoxicated with a twinge of dizziness running through my system, I look at myself in the mirror and really puke at the sight of my reflection.

The tiny glimmer of hope I allowed to pool up within me has now vanished. Pale complexion, messy bun, absolutely no makeup or hairspray to be found, just the broken down, hurt vessel that carries me around.

Tommie pulls me by the arm, dragging me downstairs and points to a couple of coolers and signals to the pack them in the truck.

“But I need my sunglasses and my phone,” I try to protest.

“Move. I’m sure there’s an extra pair in the truck.”

“For the love of all things holy. Did you pack a cow?” I complain and bitch, as I roll, drag and kick all the shit out into the garage.

“Look alive, Tess,” Will seems to scream at me.

Cringing, I grab my head and wince at the shooting pain. The glaring sun and reflection off of his black truck doesn’t help matters either. One, I want to die. Two, I’m never ever drinking again. Ever.

Turning towards the house, I decide to sneak back to grab my glasses and my phone, hoping Will may leave me home for the day to recover.

“Not so fast, Tessa,” Will says.

Turning around to look at him, I see him dangling my sunglasses and waving my cell phone in the other. Rat bastard knows me all too well.

“Get your ass in now.”

I snatch my things from Will and call him a few choice words before getting in.

“You have a text, Sunshine,” Will says.

“Haha very funny, asswipe.”

No sooner than I finish my words my phone beeps. A weird sensation courses through my veins because e

veryone who texts me is now seated in the truck. As in everyone, I mean, Scarlett, Will and Tommie. Looking down, my phone lights up three more times with more texts from the same number.

Slapping the back of Will’s seat, I ask, “Is this a prank? If so, I’m not in the mood. My head is splitting. I’m dizzy and still taste the puke in my mouth.”

All three of them shrug at the same time and truly look as perplexed as I do.

“This can’t be good,” I mumble to myself.

Sliding the lock screen to open, I take a deep breath and see what awaits me.