more high school vam
I really am on a role with this! Here is the second part of chapter 7 of 'Who the Fuck is Lily?'
Part the Seventh ( ii )
Ryan and I had been walking for 15 minutes and I was beginning to wonder if he lived in a whole other town when he finally turned into the front lawn of a house. It was a small place but reasonably well-kept, unlike Ryan himself. I thought my hair was bad in the mornings, but his literally looked like a rat's nest!
We stepped inside the house and immediately heard the sounds of someone vomiting. I winced and looked at Ryan. He understood my unspoken question and nodded. It was Bam making those God-awful noises. Ryan pointed me in the direction of the bathroom and then made himself scarce. I walked toward the bathroom and stood in the doorway, surveying the scene in front of me.
Bam was laying on his side, curled up around the toilet bowl. He was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday and he had the remnants of his vomit stuck to his face, around his mouth. I flicked the light on as it was rather dark in this small house and he made a pitiful moaning sound and shielded his eyes with his hand. That confirmed it, he had a severe hangover. I stepped into the room and the smell of stale whiskey mixed with fresh vomit hit me full in the face. I nearly gagged but managed to swallow the urge as I crouched down beside Bam. I tried to roll him over but he clung to the toilet bowl like it was his last refuge.
"Bam if you're finished we should get you into a bed," I told him. He just moaned again. He clearly wasn't coherent enough to realise who I was. This calmed my fear of being pushed away, but created all new fears about how drunk he had obviously been.
"Bam, do you need to be sick again?" I asked, slowly and close to his ear. He groaned and shook his head so I pried his fingers from around the toilet bowl and pulled him into a standing position. I slung his left arm over my neck for support and started to lead him out of the bathroom. Ryan was waiting for us and he lead the way into what appeared to be the master bedroom. I laid Bam down on the bed where he rolled slowly onto his side, clutching at his stomach. I turned to Ryan, who was watching Bam with an expression torn between exasperation and worry.
"Ryan do you have a bucket that we can put on the floor? I don't want him to vomit all over your parents' bed," I asked. Ryan nodded and left the room. He came back a moment later, a red bucket in his hand. I sat it by the bed and then stood back, watching Bam. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Ryan, his face marred by worry.
"I think you should try talking some sense into him. I tried when I found him but he was too drunk to care. He just kept saying your name. I wanted to take him to the hospital, I was worried he'd had too much, poisoned himself, but as soon as he threw up he seemed a little more coherent and begged me not to take him," I felt a wave of pity for this boy who I'd never gotten along with and I impulsively leaned forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a second, probably not used to male affection, but then squeezed me back, obviously needing the comfort.
"I'll try talking some sense into him. He might need a painkiller first, he's gonna have a hell of a headache!" I smiled when I said it, trying to lighten the situation a little and Ryan smiled back, albeit weakly.
"I'll go get him some asprin and a glass of water," he offered and he left the room. I watched Bam while Ryan was gone, wondering what in the hell I had said to cause him to drink himself into oblivion.
Ryan came back and handed me the water and two small tablets. I sat on the bed next to Bam and motioned Ryan to help me sit Bam up. He did so, Bam moaning and groaning like a dying man all the while.
"Sick... so sick..." he whimpered. I felt my heart melt but then harden; this was self-inflicted, after all. Then I remembered that this was all my fault. I wasn't sure exactly what I'd said to him, as I'd said a lot of things, but something had really hurt him.
"I know sweetheart, but I've got something to make you feel better," I murmured. I slipped a tablet into his mouth and put the glass to his lips. He swallowed it in a big gulp and gagged, spitting water everywhere.
"It's okay darling, just relax and swallow. I know you don't like tablets, but these will make you feel better, I swear," I was reassuring him without really thinking about it, but it seemed to be working. He swallowed the first tablet and gulped for air. Once he was breathing normally I put the next in his mouth and returned the glass to his lips. This time he swallowed without problems and quickly flopped back down on the bed.
"I'll... leave you to it. I'll just be in the living room if you need me. Good luck," Ryan once again left the room, leaving me to wallow in my guilt. I continued to sit beside Bam, waiting for the asprin to kick in so he would wake up from his alcohol-induced stupor. Looking into his pained face I felt more guilt hit me. How could I do this to my best friend? I mean, yeah he wasn't exactly being nice, especially to Lily, but that was no reason to hurt him.
I brushed his brown curls off his face and ran a hand through his hair, reveling in the softness of it. I ran a finger lightly down the side of his face, wishing I had the guts to do it while he was sober. Seeing that his face was still dirty, I quickly got up and went to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth. I sat back down beside him and started to wipe his face off as gently as I could. Once he was clean I sat the washcloth beside the glass of water on the bedside table and continued to comb my fingers through his silky curls. He whimpered softly and clutched his stomach again.
"Sick... gon' be sick," he whispered. I quickly sat him up brought the bucket to his lap and up it came. It took a lot for me not to gag when I heard the vomit hitting the bottom of the bucket. After he'd exhausted himself and was laying down again I put the bucket back on the floor. I picked up the washcloth and once again sponged his face down. This time it seemed to wake him up a little. That and the asprin slowly kicking in.
"How do you feel sweetheart?" I asked softly. He opened his eyes and the cloudy blue orbs struck me straight to my heart.
"Ville?" He whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me," I answered.
"What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely confused and I realise he still wasn't 100 % coherent. I decided the deep stuff could wait 20 minutes or so, until the asprin really kicked in.
"I'm just making sure you're okay. How do you feel?" I asked.
"Sick..." he trailed off and closed his eyes again, snoring softly. I decided to take the opportunity to empty the bucket, as the smell was making me want to be sick. As I was washing the bucket out in the laundry sink I heard Ryan approach the door way. I turned my head to look at him.
"Well?" He asked.
"He's sleeping. But I think it's a natural sleep now, rather than an alcohol-induced one. I tried to talk to him, but he was still pretty confused," I answered.
"Okay. You'll try again soon?"
"Yeah, I'll sit with him til he wakes up," Ryan nodded and went back into the living room.
I finished what I was doing and went back to the bedroom. I laid down next to Bam and rolled over onto my side, watching my best friend for signs of more sickness. As I traced his facial features lightly I began thinking about all the things I had said to him at Linde's house, sorting through them to find the one that had hurt him. My poor Bam-Bam, what have I done to you?
Part the Seventh ( ii )
Ryan and I had been walking for 15 minutes and I was beginning to wonder if he lived in a whole other town when he finally turned into the front lawn of a house. It was a small place but reasonably well-kept, unlike Ryan himself. I thought my hair was bad in the mornings, but his literally looked like a rat's nest!
We stepped inside the house and immediately heard the sounds of someone vomiting. I winced and looked at Ryan. He understood my unspoken question and nodded. It was Bam making those God-awful noises. Ryan pointed me in the direction of the bathroom and then made himself scarce. I walked toward the bathroom and stood in the doorway, surveying the scene in front of me.
Bam was laying on his side, curled up around the toilet bowl. He was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday and he had the remnants of his vomit stuck to his face, around his mouth. I flicked the light on as it was rather dark in this small house and he made a pitiful moaning sound and shielded his eyes with his hand. That confirmed it, he had a severe hangover. I stepped into the room and the smell of stale whiskey mixed with fresh vomit hit me full in the face. I nearly gagged but managed to swallow the urge as I crouched down beside Bam. I tried to roll him over but he clung to the toilet bowl like it was his last refuge.
"Bam if you're finished we should get you into a bed," I told him. He just moaned again. He clearly wasn't coherent enough to realise who I was. This calmed my fear of being pushed away, but created all new fears about how drunk he had obviously been.
"Bam, do you need to be sick again?" I asked, slowly and close to his ear. He groaned and shook his head so I pried his fingers from around the toilet bowl and pulled him into a standing position. I slung his left arm over my neck for support and started to lead him out of the bathroom. Ryan was waiting for us and he lead the way into what appeared to be the master bedroom. I laid Bam down on the bed where he rolled slowly onto his side, clutching at his stomach. I turned to Ryan, who was watching Bam with an expression torn between exasperation and worry.
"Ryan do you have a bucket that we can put on the floor? I don't want him to vomit all over your parents' bed," I asked. Ryan nodded and left the room. He came back a moment later, a red bucket in his hand. I sat it by the bed and then stood back, watching Bam. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Ryan, his face marred by worry.
"I think you should try talking some sense into him. I tried when I found him but he was too drunk to care. He just kept saying your name. I wanted to take him to the hospital, I was worried he'd had too much, poisoned himself, but as soon as he threw up he seemed a little more coherent and begged me not to take him," I felt a wave of pity for this boy who I'd never gotten along with and I impulsively leaned forward and hugged him. He stiffened for a second, probably not used to male affection, but then squeezed me back, obviously needing the comfort.
"I'll try talking some sense into him. He might need a painkiller first, he's gonna have a hell of a headache!" I smiled when I said it, trying to lighten the situation a little and Ryan smiled back, albeit weakly.
"I'll go get him some asprin and a glass of water," he offered and he left the room. I watched Bam while Ryan was gone, wondering what in the hell I had said to cause him to drink himself into oblivion.
Ryan came back and handed me the water and two small tablets. I sat on the bed next to Bam and motioned Ryan to help me sit Bam up. He did so, Bam moaning and groaning like a dying man all the while.
"Sick... so sick..." he whimpered. I felt my heart melt but then harden; this was self-inflicted, after all. Then I remembered that this was all my fault. I wasn't sure exactly what I'd said to him, as I'd said a lot of things, but something had really hurt him.
"I know sweetheart, but I've got something to make you feel better," I murmured. I slipped a tablet into his mouth and put the glass to his lips. He swallowed it in a big gulp and gagged, spitting water everywhere.
"It's okay darling, just relax and swallow. I know you don't like tablets, but these will make you feel better, I swear," I was reassuring him without really thinking about it, but it seemed to be working. He swallowed the first tablet and gulped for air. Once he was breathing normally I put the next in his mouth and returned the glass to his lips. This time he swallowed without problems and quickly flopped back down on the bed.
"I'll... leave you to it. I'll just be in the living room if you need me. Good luck," Ryan once again left the room, leaving me to wallow in my guilt. I continued to sit beside Bam, waiting for the asprin to kick in so he would wake up from his alcohol-induced stupor. Looking into his pained face I felt more guilt hit me. How could I do this to my best friend? I mean, yeah he wasn't exactly being nice, especially to Lily, but that was no reason to hurt him.
I brushed his brown curls off his face and ran a hand through his hair, reveling in the softness of it. I ran a finger lightly down the side of his face, wishing I had the guts to do it while he was sober. Seeing that his face was still dirty, I quickly got up and went to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth. I sat back down beside him and started to wipe his face off as gently as I could. Once he was clean I sat the washcloth beside the glass of water on the bedside table and continued to comb my fingers through his silky curls. He whimpered softly and clutched his stomach again.
"Sick... gon' be sick," he whispered. I quickly sat him up brought the bucket to his lap and up it came. It took a lot for me not to gag when I heard the vomit hitting the bottom of the bucket. After he'd exhausted himself and was laying down again I put the bucket back on the floor. I picked up the washcloth and once again sponged his face down. This time it seemed to wake him up a little. That and the asprin slowly kicking in.
"How do you feel sweetheart?" I asked softly. He opened his eyes and the cloudy blue orbs struck me straight to my heart.
"Ville?" He whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me," I answered.
"What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely confused and I realise he still wasn't 100 % coherent. I decided the deep stuff could wait 20 minutes or so, until the asprin really kicked in.
"I'm just making sure you're okay. How do you feel?" I asked.
"Sick..." he trailed off and closed his eyes again, snoring softly. I decided to take the opportunity to empty the bucket, as the smell was making me want to be sick. As I was washing the bucket out in the laundry sink I heard Ryan approach the door way. I turned my head to look at him.
"Well?" He asked.
"He's sleeping. But I think it's a natural sleep now, rather than an alcohol-induced one. I tried to talk to him, but he was still pretty confused," I answered.
"Okay. You'll try again soon?"
"Yeah, I'll sit with him til he wakes up," Ryan nodded and went back into the living room.
I finished what I was doing and went back to the bedroom. I laid down next to Bam and rolled over onto my side, watching my best friend for signs of more sickness. As I traced his facial features lightly I began thinking about all the things I had said to him at Linde's house, sorting through them to find the one that had hurt him. My poor Bam-Bam, what have I done to you?