Flick

XXI

"Fuck off," I groaned when I heard the distinct noise of my bedroom door creaking open behind me. The sound rang through my head like a jet plane taking off, reminding me of why I don't drink. I've never touched a drop of alcohol in my life. And if this resembles any part of a hangover, I never would.

"Merry Christmas to you too, sunshine," Noel muttered. I could practically feel the vibration of his eyes rolling.

I groaned again, pulling my blanket tighter around my shivering body. I barely even registered Noel's presence. My head felt like it was going to explode. I've always been prone to headaches-Another another lovely side effect of my never-ending insomnia-but most aren't as bad as this one.

"Go away Noel, I'm not in the mood." I was never in the mood to see them, but today I truly had no interest.

"Oh c'mon, Flick, can't you be nice, at least today? It's Christmas?" He sounded like a pouting child, shuffling his feet against the wood floor. Though my eyes hadn't yet opened, I could picture him standing behind me wearing that stupid mopey look that was supposed to make me feel guilty about being difficult. It didn't. The idea of it made me even angrier.

"I don't care, can you please just leave me alone?" I tried to keep my voice above a whine. I still didn't move. My body felt like it was made of lead. So heavy, it almost hurt. The idea of trying to get up and out of bed now, made me sick.

Especially after yesterday. The day itself was so draining. My mother's presence was exhausting, to say the least. She spent the whole night, including when I got home from the roof with Jackson around 4 AM, fighting with my brothers, or more specifically, Emil. It felt nostalgic in a tiring way. They'd spent my whole childhood fighting. I can remember so many nights where I would stay up, sitting against the door, listening to them yell about things I didn't understand yet. I hated it then. I hate it now. During the night, while I was still awake listening to their angry words being thrown at one another, I almost found myself feeling bad for Emil. I've been on both the offensive and defensive sides of a fight with my mother, and I can attest to the fact that it is no joy to be either. I almost felt bad. Almost. But then I remembered that he brought this on himself by coming back here. This was his choice, his doing. And he did not deserve any of my sympathies.

"Flick, c'mon, come with me to go get breakfast or something. Don't sit here all day."

I sighed hearing Noel's voice sound through the room again. He hadn't left yet. I had hoped if I kept my eyes shut long enough, he would just disappear. "Noel-"

"Please. Don't say no, Flick. I'm not asking for much here." The plea in his voice sent another wave of nostalgia washing over me. We used to do this all the time. Noel had always been an early riser. He would wake up hours before me, and at 8 o'clock exactly, no matter what day it was, he would come and wake me up and make me come and do something with him, like go to the grocery store, or go get Christmas eve breakfast. It used to be our thing. But we didn't have a thing anymore. We didn't have anything anymore. And I hated the way my stomach clenched when I thought about that.