I'm The Geek Who Slapped A Football Player.

72 - Cold Turkey

Sleep wasn't easy.

I'd slept fitfully, waking up a lot, fighting tears and the desire to find out where Nyssa lives and breaking into her house to chase her with a steak knife.

I'd also dreamed crazy and nonsense dreams. I was running down the school hallways being chased, but it wasn't by Flora, I never could tell who it was, but it seemed to change, and they would get close, so close, heart poundingly close, and I'd wake up, sweating.

Other times I was lost in some kind of maze made of plants, lilacs, flowers, trees, deck boards...and I couldn't get out. Something would grab me by the glasses, by the hair, by the upper arms, and a fucking demon mink with Nyssa's laugh would skitter around my ankles and trip me and I would try it kick it and miss and go sprawling in the mud.

Once I'd finally think I was free of the maze, something would start pricking my scalp, and I would suddenly start having to rip yellow roses out of my hair by the fistful.

So, again, trying to sleep was like swimming through tar.

This morning, exhausted and angry and still beyond annoyed at my weak mind, I'd gotten up at like five am and taken a shower. I stood under the hot water for a lonnnggg time, letting it patter over my tense shoulders and then itched my scalp raw because it felt like I should be finding fucking thorns in there.

Once done, I'd rapped my hair up in a towel, put on my favorite puffy purple bathrobe, and opened the door and screamed at the dark shape in the hall.

"Mom! Ohmygosh what the hell! You scared me!"

"Sorry! Sorry, hon," She came at me like a smothering blanket, touching my forehead and putting an arm around me. "Are you okay? Did you get sick?"

"No, mom, I just took a shower." I pointed at the towel on my head. "Just needed a pick me up."

"Do you feel okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes—"

"Would you like to stay home?"

"No." I don't say it with much feeling but I made the resolve last night, in the midst of a tearful chat with Cuddles, that I wasn't going to stay home the day after I let Nyssa rattle me so much. I can admit that the fucking bitch did get to me— but I can show up to school anyways. I won't give her the satisfaction of me staying home the next day, I cannot do that!!

How I'm going to manage the rest of the day...I'm not 100% fucking sure.

"Sweetheart..." She says in that patronizing motherly tone and I am not able to hide my eye roll. Oops. Oh well...

"Mom, I'm okay, I just had a weird stomach bug. Maybe ate something bad—"

"At the school?! What was for lunch?! Did they feed you spoiled lunch?!" Oh sweet Lorrddd...

She's following me down the hallway now and I scoop up Nibbles who was about to trip me. "Noooo mom! I just might have one thing that was bad. I don't know. Or I got sick. Some people at school were sick..."

"And they came to school?! They should have stayed home, like you should—"

I spin around in the doorway with Nibbles in my arms and meet her stare almost violently. Through my teeth I say, "Mom. I'm. Fine."

My mother pauses, an eyebrow twitching and rage building as boiling and roiling like a forgotten witches cauldron, but with a huff (where I imagine steam puffs out of her ears, because she's that damn crazy), and then she nods once. "Okay...fine. Bring some meds with you to school."