Confessions of a Teenage Caffeine Addict

23 // Cheater Cheater

How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust

—And also to make you feel so whole?

—Lauren Oliver

____________________________________

KATIE

FEBRUARY // WEEK 11

I woke up the next day surrounded by pillows and warmth, both of which, I was unfamiliar with. Pillows. With pillowcases. That had some kind of snowflake, wintery design on them. Pillows: Light, puffy, soft. Right then and there, I decided that pillows were a gift from God. Like, one day, he just reached up and took a piece of a cloud—and boom—pillows!

Warmth. Even more foreign than pillows. So foreign, that I thought it was a dream at first. I would have pinched myself to make sure, but that never worked, so I counted my fingers. In dreams, people had extra fingers on their hands. I had five fingers, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But I wasn't sure about a lot of stuff these days. With my mom. With Jake. With my dad.

I heard footsteps and sat up quickly, just as my door creaked open. Ava Castleton. "Oh good, you're awake! Get dressed, we're going shopping." She told me before closing my door. My reaction was to pull the covers up around me. Ava opened my door again and threw some jeans and a shirt at me. "Forgot, you don't have any clothes."

"What about school?" I asked her, my voice cracking.

"It's a snow day. God, didn't you get the text message or see the Twitter and Facebook posts?" She rolled her eyes.

"I don't have a phone." I looked down. "Or a computer."

"Oh." I didn't see Ava's reaction, but I imagined that it went something along the lines of her mouth forming into a small 'o,' and regretting the words she just said. "We're gonna fix that today—well—actually, mommy is going to fix that." I could hear the mischievousness in her voice, like that time she threw an impromptu party.

I looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

Ava held up a small rectangle, no doubt a credit card. Its shiny blue surface caught the light that leaked around the curtains in my room. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready," she said to me before closing the door.

I waited seven minutes before getting out of bed to retrieve the clothes on the floor. I half-expected Ava to come back. Just in case, I tiptoed over to the door and locked it, before breathing a sigh of relief. I picked up Ava's light-washed jeans, holding them between my pointer finger and thumb, and examined them. They seemed new. I hadn't had new clothes in four years. I couldn't help but smile as I put them on, one leg at a time, the denim hugging me. I would have hugged it back if I could. I found the shirt: plain, white, and long-sleeved. It seemed simple for Ava, but I wasn't complaining.

I looked at myself in the mirror which hung on the back of the door, and proceeded to rake my fingers through my mousy hair, trying to get it to do something other than just hang there on my head. My hair was as flat as a piece of paper, and compared to Ava's, I might as well be bald standing next to her.

I opened my door and stuck my head out into the hallway, looking both ways like a child did before crossing the road. It was quiet, except for some weird humming noise. I decided it was safe to venture out of my room and down the stairs... if only I could find the stairs.

"Oh, you look cute!" Ava piped when she saw me. She was sitting on one of the high-top chairs at the breakfast counter drinking some orange juice. "Finny did a good job picking out your outfit, and you seem to be my size, so shopping will be easy." She smiled at me, tossing me a granola bar.