LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

9 | all-consuming dread.

"Please, pick up," I beg my best friend as I press my phone against my ear and pace back and forth in my bedroom.
It's only eight o'clock on a Saturday morning and I assume he didn't get home until late, therefore is most likely not hearing his phone ring at the moment. Marty isn't up this early on a good day, let alone after drinking half his body weight in vodka the night before.

I ended up taking an Uber home just after ten-thirty, which no is probably not the safest thing to do alone as a sixteen year old girl who had most definitely not completely sobered up, but I desperately needed to get out of there and hoped I wouldn't wake up hungover, or at least come to realise my act of stupidity was all in my head and I actually didn't go through with it.

Neither of which happened. Unfortunately.

I was woken up at a quarter to seven by a loud bang of thunder, and now an hour later I am wide awake with a pounding head and a whole heap of anxiety.

"Hi, you've reached Marty. Please—" I hang up and toss my phone onto my bed.

"I'm such an idiot," I whine, throwing my head into my hands.

My pity party doesn't last much longer (for now) when I decide to change into a grey tracksuit and throw a long black puffer jacket over the top and pair it with my favourite white and baby pink tennis shoes. I tie my hair up in a low ponytail and pack a bag before heading out the door.

I'd already previously showered not long after waking up but had changed back into my pyjamas afterwards, hoping to get a little more rest before meeting Scarlett which obviously did not happen when the realisation of my irresponsible and careless behaviour hit me like a ton of bricks.

The nearest pharmacy is on the way to the train station which is about a twenty to twenty-five minute walk from my house. It's less than ideal in a downpour especially when you don't own an umbrella, but I manage to tuck my hair in under my jacket and pull the hood over my head which at least stops me from getting absolutely soaked.

When I arrive, I make my way to the counter and try to disregard the all-consuming dread of asking the thirty something year old man for emergency contraception.

"Hi, how can I help?" He questions, a cheery expression on his face.

"Hi, I need Plan B please and a twelve pack of Advil too," I say. My gaze is anywhere but focused on his. This is extremely uncomfortable for me but I don't exactly have any other options.

"Okay, give me one moment," he says, walking off for a brief second before coming back and placing both the Advil and contraceptive on the counter. "This is up to eighty-nine percent efficient," he informs me, a lukewarm smile on his lips.
I nod. "Okay, thank you."

"That'll be fifty-two dollars and twenty cents all together."

There goes four hours of work and half my grocery money for the fortnight.

__

"Make me your strongest cup of coffee and keep them coming," I dramatise with a groan, leaning over the counter at my favourite café shop as I speak to my favourite waiter.

"Hangover?" She giggles, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yes, and I'm meant to be meeting someone who probably thinks I've never had a sip of alcohol in my life when my head is about to explode."

"I'm assuming a parent then?"

"No. Well yes. But no. It's complicated," I chuckle as she gets to work on making my coffee.
"It always is."

There's a moment of silence. Well between us anyway, the café is still filled with the sounds of peoples conversations, coffee brewing, and glasses clattering.