Impossible

Chapter 6 - 'That definitely escalated faster than the Titanic.'

I didn’t fall asleep, I couldn’t.

I lay sprawled out along the bed, staring at the light that was not even turned off, but yet, Bates still managed to easily escape into a deep sleep. His arm was thrown over my stomach and I was literally glued to the bed that definitely escalated faster than the Titanic.

I was paralysed while staring up aimlessly at the ceiling. Questioning over and over again, what in the name of Christ just happened, did you think I’d get an answer, nope. My mind was spinning it was more drama than I was used to. I couldn’t shake the gaze of jealousy coming from Beau, directly for me.

Maybe he swung for the other team?

Most likely, I once had an uncle who tried to convince himself and the family he was straight, while he pranced around with a pink apron baking buns. I know the contradiction was immense. He also has more pairs of high heels than I have. 

I didn’t even bother sparing him another glance before flinging off his hand, and climbing out of his bed. I decided to regain the title of the very responsible cousin and check on my own cousin, before she starts pouring out her sins to Mason. If he returned the favour, it would be a while.

Forgetting that there was a party in full swing, I carefully tiptoed down the stairs, until the music actually registered. The party wasn’t even close to coming to an end and I think everyone knew that. When I actually reached down stairs lots of people had already left, probably because of successfully becoming paralytic. There was still the odd few people scattered around the place, but I knew they would coincidentally surrounding the alcohol.

I was slightly terrified of what I might find in the kitchen, as I wavered at the door before busting through it. What I found, I couldn’t lie, slightly amused me, but I knew I should have gave Mason even more specific orders. Becky was not only in a severe hoop, stumbling all over the place, but she was also thrown across the floor, cradling a whiskey bottle, telling it how she was going to take good care of it, and how just for tonight she would replace her rosary beads with the bottle.

I couldn’t help the giggle of amusement fly out of my mouth, but quickly sobering up, when I noticed Mason was nowhere to be found. He had left my prude of a relation, thrown along the floor with a whiskey bottle, all by herself. An annoyed hiss released its way out, as I made my way over to her.

“C’mon Beck,” I softly said, while desperately to no satisfaction trying to tug her arm. There was no way she was moving, it was an ant trying to move an elephant, “You need to get up.”

There was a stray of incoherent words, a mere whisper.

“Dude, what the hell did you have to drink?” I breathlessly asked her, continuing to attempt on getting her up. I wasn’t really expecting an answer back but I got one.

“Favourite cousin, I had some vodka, you know, like the thing nemo swims in.” It amazed me that she was physically incapable of standing, but yet her sentences are pronounced as if she hasn’t had a drink. You would think she hasn’t been, until you actually take in what she was saying.

“No Beck, nemo swims in water, not vodka.” I answered humourlessly, feeling a start of a smirk at such an innocent drunk she became. She would be so easier to tolerate if she had some ability to walk, or even stand for that matter.

Her finger sluggishly rose in her attempt of giving me the discipline finger instead it looked as if she was flicking herself off. She made a few attempts at starting to get her sentence out, until finally, on the fifth or sixth try she succeeded, “Whatever, they look the same. I’d like to be nemo, he would be drunk all the time and so carefree. Wouldn’t you love it?”