Chapter thirty-one | Losing It

Chapter thirty-one | Losing It

"See you later, dude!" I heard a voice call out behind me as I waved off.

My mind was a fuzzy mess as I lightly stumbled on the front steps.

I rapidly blinked towards the doorknob, waiting for it to turn one instead of two. As that happened, a sigh escaped my lips, and I leaned back.

I patted my jacket, looking for the house key, but my search was fruitless.

I could search for the spare we had hidden somewhere in the plants, but my fuzzy brain couldn't recall exactly where it was.

With a groan, I leaned my head against the front door, contemplating ringing the doorbell. Deciding against it, I pushed away from the door.

Hearing dad grumbling at the moment wasn't worth it.

The force I put into the push was more than expected, making me stumble back. Barely catching myself from face planting in the dirt, my eyes glazed with the sudden movement.

The drinks in my stomach churned, threatening to pour out.

"No puking, Elias," I chatted to myself. "No puking."

I twisted on my steps and made my way towards the girl next door. An unceremonious snicker escaped my lips at the thought.

Girl next door. Talk about being cliche.

I took out my phone, which I could somehow retain and dialed Cynthia's number. As the dialer tune rang, I blinked my eyes to get used to the screen's glare.

"Hello?" I heard Cynthia's husky voice speak from the phone.

"Eli?" she asked, sounding concerned as I took my damn time to appreciate her voice.

"You home?" I asked, leaning against her front door.

"Are you drunk, Eli?" Cynthia's voice was still sleep ridden, but she was able to recognize the slur of my words.

"Yup." I popped my p, just the way they described in those teen novels.

Even if a sober me would never admit it, I was taking tips from some famous teen novel. After all, they described the bad boys in detail.

"I am in front of your door," I continued as silence ensued from the other side.

I waited for a second, but the static quite remained. "Hello? Cynthia, you awake? Are you sleeping? Wakey-wakey."

A pout formed on my lips, but that expression was soon replaced by shock as the door flew open.

"Gosh! You are drunk off your ass!" Cynthia exclaimed, rushing to my side.

"Huh?" My eyebrows drew together as I turned to my screen. The call had been disconnected already. Oh.

A lazy smile curved over my lips, and I wrapped my arms around her.

Her scent filled my nose, with an underlying floral aroma. "You smell nice," I whispered, burying my nose in the crook of her neck.

She shivered at my words, making me frown. "Are you cold?"

Cynthia gave an irritated groan, making me shut up. Like an innocent kid, I placed my finger on my lips, giving her a wide-eyed look.

"Get in!" she demanded, tugging me inside.

As we pushed into her room door, my arms wrapped around her waist once again.

"Sorry?" I whispered cautiously.

Cynthia lightly pushed me back, making me land on the bed.

For a moment, I couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked even when she was angry.

Her brown locks were loose around her as her skin glowed under the neon light.

When my eyes returned to analyze her features, my guilt doubled. "I am sorry," I repeated, giving her a cheeky grin.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Eli." Her voice was serious as she barely reigned her anger inside.

I nodded in agreement. "I know I shouldn't have woken you-" I started, feeling sober under her murderous glare.

"It is not about waking me up, Eli! It is about the fact that you went to the party when I specifically asked you not to."

I narrowed my eyes at her words. "You told me you weren't going. If you are concerned about me being there alone, don't worry, Michael was there with me. Even if it was just me, then it's fine. I can handle parties now." I added a shrug at the end for good measure.

Her light brown eyes turned dark with worry. "It is not about going alone. It is about the type of party you were going to. It was a college party, and most probably, the drinks there were spiked. It would have been a disaster if the police showed up there or something bad occurred."

I gulped at her words and averted my eyes.

"Whatever," I replied and kicked off my shoes.

Cynthia sighed in dejection and understood my sign. She knew that it was no use talking about the topic further.

I wrapped my arms around her as she cuddled her body into mine. A content sigh slipped past my lips, and I placed a kiss on top of her head.

It had been two weeks since I had asked her to resume the training. While she lacked the original enthusiasm, it gave me hope. Hope that maybe she likes me and is feeling jealous.

There were days when trying to mold me into someone she might deserve, made guilt rush through my veins, followed by disgust. But I pushed those thoughts back as the potential of a relationship with Cynthia arose in my mind.

I was sure that she was oblivious to the fact that the girl I liked was her. Her curiosity to know more about my secret crush made it obvious.

She was out in seconds, but my thoughts kept me awake. Even the daze of alcohol couldn't calm my thoughts.

"I love you. Do you know that?" I whispered into the silence of the room, letting it bounce off the walls.

Even if I could somehow get those words to my lips, I couldn't even muster enough courage to say that to her awkward face.

It was truly pathetic.

With one last thought to my possibly unrequited feelings, I finally let sleep consume me. A slumber so deep that I missed out on Cynthia's shocked expression.

The loud wailing of alarm brought me out of my sleep. With a groan escaping my lips, I placed my palms against my ears.

I could feel the blood rush up to my skull, banging against the walls. It was as if my ears were sensitive to every little noise, increasing the impending headache.

Relief washed over me as the loud ringing ceased. I turned around to snuggle into Cynthia once again but came across an empty space.

"You need to get up, Eli. It is a weekday which means school!" A groan of extreme annoyance escaped me, making her snicker.

"Not funny," I muttered, pushing up from the bed.

The hangover fucked me up as bile moved up my throat. I resisted the urge to puke and tugged on my shoes.

"I hate hangovers!" My words were a hiss of irritation as the world appeared too bright for my liking.

"I am leaving, Cynthia!" I called out, wincing after the drumming in my head increased.

She gave some reply, but it was barely audible over the shower noise.

Wincing, I rubbed my temple. My fingers try to soothe the pain even if it was a fruitless effort.

I almost scream in irritation when I realize that my house keys are still missing. With the hesitant movement, I press the front doorbell.

It just takes them a few seconds to open the door, the panic expression on Mom's face dissolving.

"He is back, Aiden!" Mom called out for dad.

I gave her a confused look and walked past her. The relief on her soft features soon morphed into anger.

"What kind of behavior is this, Elias Rodriguez?" Mom's eyes blazed fire as her hands settled on her waist.

Wincing at her loud screech, I grunted in response.

Grabbing my hand, she tugged me to the dining table. As she forced me to take a seat, Dad took the seat opposite mine.

His expression was grave as he gave me an analyzing look.

His eyes moved from my tousled hair to sleep-deprived red eyes. I was sure he could smell the odor of alcohol clinging to me.

"Where were you last night, Elias?" His voice was stern, just like his eyes.

"I spent the night at Cynthia's," I muttered, looking down at my hands. "Before that, I was at a party."

I patiently waited for scolding and maybe some shouting to start any second now. But my wait turned to minutes, making me frown.

I looked up to meet Dad and Mom's eyes. Both of them had a sad expression on their face as disappointment shone through their eyes.

Somehow, the intensity of their eyes was enough to pierce my heart.

Before I could open my mouth to get out an apology, Mom spoke up.

"What's happening, Eli?" Her whisper was weak, making me flinch.

"I don't understand what you mean," I muttered, trying to act oblivious to the obvious.

"You have been changing. You are acting weird, attending too many parties even on weekdays and hanging around-" Dad started, but I cut him off.

His words triggered my defense, making me snark in response. "You guys wanted me to be social. Well, this is what it entails being social in high school." I crossed my arms in defiance.

Dad's forlorn expression hardened, and he nodded in agreement. "But your grades are slipping, and you no longer hang out and bring Navya or Connor home. It is worrying us."

I opened my mouth to deny their statement, but my words got stuck in my throat. Dad wasn't lying.

Ever since I postponed the monthly game, something had been awkward between us. Some that made me avoid bringing them home anymore.

We still hung out, but there was something tense about it.

"I slipped in just one test. It is not a big deal," I answered, biting back my words.

"Yes, it is a big deal when it is the subject you absolutely love. When it is Chemistry, and you have never scored badly in that," Mom borderline screamed.

I didn't have an answer for that. So, I tried to change the topic.

"You guys are over-reacting. It is just one test. Anyway, I need to get ready for school."

I made my move to get up, but Dad's words froze me for a moment.

"You are not going, Elias. You look in serious need of some sleep, so I am allowing you to take the day off. Just this time, for the sake of your health." I almost turned around to thank him for it, but he continued.

"Take this day to think about your recent actions, Elias. You are changing, and I can't realize if it's a good way or a bad way. But I can say for sure we are losing the real you."

I barely nodded in response and trudged up the stairs. The turmoil of my mind changed to an hurricane, wrecking my rational thinking.

My parent's words were able to bring out the thoughts I was trying to bury deep inside my mind. With my hungover state, it was more tiring than normal.

I plopped down on the bed and took out my phone. Ignoring the abundance of texts and social media posts, my fingers typed in a text for Cynthia. Letting her know that I wasn't attending the school today, I pressed send.

Exhaustion pounced on me just as I pressed the blue send button.

But even then, my mind was able to slip in a delicate question.

Was I changing?