Marked

Nine

I had seen Parker at my game, and I have to admit, that made me play so much better. Because I knew that he was watching my every move. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he wasn't, maybe he didn't even notice that I was playing.

We did win though. By a lot. The final score was 63-29. I sat in the backseat of my mom's car after the game, not saying a word to any of my family. My dad was never able to come to my games. He was always at the restaurant. Which I really didn't mind.

My mom kept shooting me glares through the rearview mirror, that I saw every time I glanced up from where I was looking out the window, watching as the scenery changed.

And as soon as I got home, I went to my room, locking the door behind me.

***

Why was I holding a bottle of vodka in my room? With half of it gone? Ah, good question.

I was fed up with everything. And while I had never taken a drink of alcohol in my life, I figured that it might take some of the edge off. But maybe I shouldn't have drunk as much as I did, because I was wasted.

I don't remember very much from that night. Everyone always says that you don't remember everything that you do when you're drunk, and I can confirm that.

I do remember picking up my phone and calling Samantha. That was not a good idea if you were wondering. Which you probably weren't anyways.

All I remember are bits and pieces of information. I remember telling her about how much I loved Parker's eyes, and how pretty they were, and how I could just look at them forever and never get bored. And I remember telling her about how I had no idea what my sexuality was. I remember telling her that he almost kissed me. That he had two sisters. That he was a swimmer. That he wore an adorable bracelet that he messed with sometimes.

And that was it. I honestly don't know if I just jumped into the eyes or if I said something else before that. Or if I said something after the bracelet or anything in between.

And the next day when I woke up, I did not have time to even worry about that.

Because to put it simply; I felt like absolute shit.

As soon as I was awake, I knew I was gonna be sick. And then I puked all over the floor in the hallway because my mom was in the bathroom, and she wouldn't get out no matter how much I knocked. And I had a massive headache, was super thirsty, and my entire body hurt.

"Oh my..." My mom mumbled when she opened the door, but I was busy leaning against the wall in the narrow hallways, my fingers on my forehead like that would simply get rid of the pain that felt like my head was going to explode.

Then she frowned. "Sebastion Adam William, why do you smell like alcohol?" She yelled.

"Ow... be quiet." I mumbled. "Please," I added, knowing that she was glaring at me right then.

"Grounded. No leaving the house. No car. No leaving your bedroom except for bathroom and meals, and you're on dishes duty for a week," She said. "I do not accept drinking in my house,"

I barely even listened to her as she talked. It was something that she had said to me so many times before, that I hardly even noticed anymore. Well, except for the drinking part. She had told me not to drink before, but I had never gotten in trouble for it because I had never had a sip of anything even slightly alcoholic.

"Can I have some ibuprofen or something?" I asked her. God, my head was killing me.

She looked at me for only a second. "No. Your room. I have to clean up this mess," She said.

Of course. Was I even surprised at this point? No. Of course, I wasn't. She probably wanted me to learn my lesson, which is cool most of the time. Not when my head is actually killing me.

I lay on my floor, on my phone. I had sent a message to Parker. 'How do you get drunk so easily. It sucks. I feel dead. Can you come kill me?' Because the way that I was feeling right then, it would be greatly appreciated.

My phone went off a few minutes later. I checked it, and I would've smiled- if y'know, I wasn't feeling dead. 'How much did you drink though?'

'About half to three-quarters of a bottle of vodka' I sent simply.

'And that is why you feel dead' Parker sent. 'I would have never recommended drinking that much. Or vodka at all tbh. It's gross'

'Well now I'm grounded' I sent. I was also in the mood to annoy my mom. 'Wanna sneak in my window?' I asked him, expecting him to say no.

'Only if you're on the first floor. Not looking to end up being killed' Parker sent.

'First floor' I sent him my address, and then sent him where my window was if you were looking at my house from the outside. And I told him what windows to watch out for so that my mom or dad-or even Sammy- couldn't see him.

Was this probably a horrible idea? Yeah. But technically, when you thought about it, my mom had never actually said that I couldn't have people come over to me.

But still, if she found out, I was dead. Multiple times over again. Would still probably be better than how I was feeling right then.

But what happened next? Oh boy, get ready.