East Kids - Tessa & Elijah

Chapter 12

Tessa

When I'm woken up by the sun's rays the next morning, something is different. At first I just try to turn around and discard the thought, but within a few seconds it has clung to my mind like a tick and doesn't seem ready to let me go again.

So I sighed a lot to get rid of my displeasure and then slowly open my eyes. At first everything is blurry, but then it becomes clearer and I notice that there is something weird about me.

I lift my blanket so high that I can just look under it and notice that I don't seem to have changed after yesterday's party.

Although my skull is humming a lot, I don't have any memory gaps. Especially the pictures I took of Thalia's newly 'decorated' top shoot me in the head when I think about last night.

With quite stiff bones I sit up and drive through my disheveled hair. Fortunately I had no braid, otherwise I would have to pull my hair tie out of my hair again. With my luck, I always rip out half of my hair.

For a moment I just play with the idea of sitting here until my hangover is gone. But as I'm just beginning to weigh the pros and cons, voices come to my ears from below where my mother's room is.

Instantly I frown. Not all the guests have disappeared yet, for instance. I actually thought that Mom threw out the last ones before I went to bed. But my memories may also deceive me. A little startled by this, I rise groaning to see who the voices belong to.

The closer I get to the living room, which you can also see from upstairs, the louder the voice becomes. Meanwhile I can assign it better and better to the male s*x. At first I suspect that it's actually some guy from my level who managed to stay here somehow, but as I walk up the stairs I can now also say that the person must be a lot older. The voice is very deep.

As soon as I have reached the last stage, I get a glimpse of a man who seems to be about the same age as my mother. His hair colour is somewhere between brown and blond and reminds me - I have no idea where this thought comes from - of the mane of the pony I wanted when I was five.

And now, at seventeen, there is still no pony, but a grown man staring at our grey carpet as if spellbound. After staring at him speechlessly for a few seconds, because I can't think of any words that would be appropriate at this moment, I realize why he stares so spellbound at the fluffy surface. That's exactly the spot my new classmate threw up on.

I stare at him so spellbound that I hardly notice how he lifts his gaze. "Is that ... ", he starts with a sentence, but doesn't seem to have the desire to finish it. "Yes, that's vomit, but who are you?"

"I am Cole", now he looks at me completely: "And you?" "My name is Tessa', I imagine myself as well: 'Next question: What exactly are you doing here? "He is my date", my mother's voice now also sounds: "And last night I spontaneously decided to take him home with me." "O-Okay", I pinch my eyes a crevice wide together. The whole situation is really much too strange for me.