Taylor Marie Hill as Avery Duncan

draft saved on dec. 24, 2016. published on dec. 30, 2016—unedited.

c h a p t e r o n e : when you're drunk as hell, this is what happens

"Shit." The word escaped my mouth.

I gritted my teeth as I envisioned myself from last night, chugging the life out of my beer bottle and calling my ex. I was a mess when I got drunk, I tended to do supid things. Speaking of, why was beer ever invented? To make people intoxicated, so much that they started to lose their sense of control? Or just to have fun and forget everything for a while? Just to escape reality for a while . . .

I was starting to think whoever made beer and other intoxicating liquids was a lonely human being. Perhaps his rat died . . . But then again, the majority of people hated rats. My head was pounding and my vision was spinning, but I managed to get my phone. I unlocked it after numerous attempts on getting the right passcode. I checked the call log and widen my eyes to read the tiny letters, rather, numbers.

"What in the actual fuck?" I muttered when I realized the number I dialed this morning wasn't my ex's. I deleted his number last week but I still memorized it, but then the number which was supposed to be 'four' was replaced by 'nine'.

"I dialed the wrong person," I said, still seeming too shocked to do anything. I stared ahead. "Dogfucker."

I wanted to bang my head but decided not to. It would only worsen the case of my pounding head. "Gahhhh! I'm so stupid!" I muttered to myself, refraining from pulling my hair out.

I almost gagged when I stood up and my disgusting vomit welcomed my nose. I did not breathe until I got the mini trashcan inside my attached bathroom. I'd clean this later. I told myself. Let's just hope I remember cleaning it.

I ambled out of my room with my head pounding like it was being ran over a ten wheeler truck. I was staggering a little bit. I made a beeline for the kitchen and dug through the refrigerator. Red velvet cupcakes. I untied the ribbon and started devouring all of them after removing the cupcake liners.

"Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

I looked up to see dad and shook my head. "Doesn't matter," I answered with a mouth full of cupcake.

He laughed and retrieved a carton of milk from the fridge, pouring two glasses. He placed the other glass on the counter in front of me. "Tenks."

"You were drunk last night," he mused, staring at me with an amused face and I rolled my eyes. "What stupid thing did you do?"

I failed to let out a sigh seeing as my mouth was still full of cupcakes. I gulped and drank half of the milk in the glass. Placing down the box of cupcakes, I said in a monotone voice, "I called my ex to shout profanities at him."

He raised his brows. "You have failed to amaze me, kiddo."

"That's not only it," I intervened. "I called my ex to say 'fuck you' and other curses my drunk mind could make up but when I checked my phone a little while ago, it turned out I dialed the wrong number."

My dad stared at me with a blank face and I started counting. One, two, th—

He bursted out laughing, he patted my had while he continued laughing his ass off and I stared at him with an annoyed face. "Look dad, though it may seem like 'embarrassing' had an erratum and my brain failed to install it in my vocabulary, I'll have to say that that hap was downright embarrassing."

"It was, indeed," he agreed and continued his laughing.

I scowled and grabbed the box, which only had two more cupcakes and continued on gobbling them. Few minutes later, the incessant ringing of the doorbell made dad shut up after minutes of laughing. I honestly had no idea why he was laughing at what happened last night when I had done things in the past which were way more stupider than this.

"I suppose that's one of your bimbos," I teased.

"Nah, too early for that," he replied. I pushed him to get the door and he grumbled.

I heard the door open and dad went running upstairs, shouting, "I'm outta here!"

"Fuck," I muttered. Every time he did that, that meant—

"Avery, what in the hell were you thinking?!"

I rolled my eyes. Here she comes, the worst mother of the whole universe. I thought. I didn't really consider calling her a 'mother' because that would be an insult to all the loving and caring mothers out there.

"I was just thinking that maybe hell was much more of a sight than your face," I retorted, offering her a smirk.

She glared at me and walked closer but I held up a hand. "Told you not to invade my personal space, move at least 10 feet backward."

"Look, I have no time for your snide remarks—"

"Then go," I interrupted. "The door's right there, would you like me to accompany you outside?"

She slammed her hand on the counter, her jaw taut as her eyes pierced through me. I looked curiously at her hand and saw my report card.

"Macaroni, can I see my grades?" I asked.

"Don't kid with me!" She shouted, her face turning red. Dad where are you when I need a photographer? "You knew you flunked all of your subjects, what are you doing in your life?!"

I licked the frosting off my fingers and left the box of cupcakes on the counter. "Let's just say I am doing things that are fairly more fascinating than learning things I don't necessarily need to know."

"Education is crucial!" She exclaimed and I gritted my teeth at the sound of her voice. She was making my head pound.

"Listen, look at me and tell me," I said. "Do I look like a give a fuck?" I enunciated.

She exhaled loudly, trying to keep her temper. "Why am I even wasting my time on you?"

"Exactly the same question I had in mind."

"You're happy with my reaction, aren't you?" She narrowed her eyes.

I pursed my lips and pretended to think. "Not really," I shake my head. "My definition of 'happiness' is you moving your nose out of my fucking business." I deadpanned. "Oh, and to see you walking not only out of that door, but also out of my life."

"Can you stop cursing?" She asks and pinches the bridge of her nose.

I crossed my arms and answered, "I will if you stop bitching."

She sighed and sat down at one of the stools. "If only you would listen to me once," she used that voice which was supposed to make me feel sympathy toward her but to no avail.

I snorted. "Don't act as if you care about me. Who abandoned me when I was a baby just because she was 'scared' of not being able to be a good mom?" I made air quotations. "This was all of your fault, remember that. If only you used your brain that time and asked dad if he—by any chance—brought a condom with him, you wouldn't be dealing with my shit."

"Your existence is not the problem, okay?" She pointed out. "The problem is your attitude, you need to fix it as soon as possible."

"Well you also need to learn something," I mused. "You know what you need to learn?" I asked rhetorically and plowed through without waiting for her reply. "Minding your own damned business."

"Avery, please—"

"You can leave now," I interjected. "I have more things to do than to deal with your whining mouth."

"Like what?" She asked angrily.

"Like finishing this one last cupcake I have."

Fortunately, she stood up and sent me a look. Not a look like she was mad at me for purposely failing all of my subjects, but the look of regret.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I ate the last cupcake and hollered, "Dad, Anna's gone!"

He came rushing down with an embarrassed face. "Sorry to leave you here alone kiddo, you know I can't face her without saying thousands of curses."

"S'alright," I nodded my head.

"But I eavesdropped and your comebacks were so good, you should keep up the best work," he ruffled my hair and I let out a chuckle.

"Oh God, I think I'm gonna puke," I announced and we stood there, I felt the cupcakes I ate tickling my uvula. I ran for the sink and hurled the remnants of the red velvet cupcakes.

"Who impregnated you?"

"The red velvet cupcakes, I hate you dad."