So, I fixed the problem.
I couldn’t remember at what point in my life that I started to need to drink to fall asleep. Before, it was just a way to pass the time and suppress the thoughts before bed. Now, it soothed me like a warm bottle of milk soothed a baby.
The first time I had gotten a hold of alcohol I couldn’t figure out why people enjoyed it. It was bitter and made my nose burn and my face scrunch up when I smelt it. I remember when the first drop of the cheapest brand of tequila I could find touchedmy tongue. I spit it right back out and went to the sink to wash my mouth. That shit was like rubbing alcohol, so I couldn't understand the appeal. It wasn’t until I manned up and drank more of it and started to feel the effects that I began to realize why people enjoyed it so much.
It was all downhill from there. Now it was a sleep supplement for me, as well as something to enjoy at parties and with friends. It was my buddy. My partner. My companion that others believed was a bad influence. They were wrong.
The extra that I drank did its job at making me finally doze off, but it didn’t stop its effects from showing its ugly face the next morning. After the sleepover Ricky’s parents brought us all to school. I had a hangover, so I sported a mean headache all day with no way of stopping it.
"Hells wrong with him?" I recognized the voice to be none other than my rival’s.
My head was buried in my folded arms resting on the lunch table. It was pounding and throbbing so aggressively that I could hear it in my ears, it wanted to explode. A gracious and thoughtful gift from my friend, liquor.
Maybe I went a little overboard the night before. It didn't help that I didn't eat any food besides a bit of popcorn, either. Vodka plus an empty stomach do not mix well.
"He's tired," Ricky lied.
He knew the real reason. I confessed to him that morning because of the guilt I felt, it was eating at me terribly all morning. Ricky was upset, rightfully so, but to my surprise he did not lecture me about it. The only thing he said was that if his parents saw it was missing and he had to take the fall for me, I would owe him forever.
"Or," Javier was speaking again, "he's just upset because he knows he will lose for the fourth time in a row."
Everyone is talking so damn loudly.
"Could you leave Eli alone?" I could smell the attitude in Bella's voice from a mile away. "Why do you insist on pestering him?"
"I don't pester him," Javier scoffed. He sounded slightly offended.
Then I felt someone rub the top of my head. My hair was a mess. I didn't do anything to it before leaving for obvious reasons, but that did not mean I was okay with someone touching it. This caused me to finally sit up, the sudden movement causing a wave of nausea, but I ignored it.
I glared at Javier. "Don't touch me."
His facial expression changed from playful to a mix of shock and concern. "You look like shit."
"How sweet of you," I said sarcastically.
"Is it because the thought of me kept you up all night?" He asked.
"Why would I be thinking of you?"
"Because who wouldn't think about me?"
"Me."
“Can I enjoy my lunch without having to sit through your lover's quarrel?” Asked Justin in a not-so-kind tone.
Javier and I look at each other with disgust. Lovers quarrel? There was not a universe where I would ever be with Javier Cortez. Ever.
***
Our principal had just finished announcing the underclassmen class officers, so it was finally time to announce the senior ones. The entire school was seated in the gym. Our school loved to make a big deal out of the announcement andhave the chosen class officers be presented in front of the entire school.
This year was finally my year to walk in front of everyone as senior class president. I could feel it in my bones.
I couldn't wait for my older siblings to see that I was good at something. Sure, they knew I was a straight A student, but that was not as big of a deal as being class president. For them to know their little brother was class president would be for them to know that I was worthy of something.
I was shitty at sports, music, and everything else my siblings were interested in. I was good at school but they weren't, so I couldn't bond with them over that. But being liked across the entire school? We could possibly bond over that.
My sister being a cheerleader and my brother a football player made them popular, but I was the goofy little brother who was only known because of my cool older siblings. Being class president would mean that people knew me. It would mean that people liked me, so maybe Emerson and Easton would like me too.
