Bound By Pain

7

I'm not known for making the worst choices ever. But then again; i don't make the best choices either.

For a box of cigarettes i attended the party and i had no regrets at the time, until now. I'm hunched over the toilet. One of my lanky arms is on the seat and the other holds me up supporting my knees. I retch the contents of my stomach into the toilet. This is worse than normal because i last ate last afternoon, saving room for the alcohol i drank last night. That was my excuse, when in reality I had to save food for Henry. One can only imagine what's left to keep me going.

I would have called in sick when I woke up with the worlds most fierce headache this morning but thoughts of Henry made me set that thought aside. I braved myself, took a shower, took Henry to the neighbors' for the day and left for work hoping i wouldn't pass out or hurl on a customer.

"Binnie! You've got customers waiting for their orders to be taken: table twelve and seven!", Harry, one of my work mates shouts.

Did i mention I'm working a double today?

I get up and wash my mouth. The water clears out some of the sick but the bitterness stays -- prominent and stubborn. I leave the restroom and make for the kitchen. I grab my notepad and start with table twelve.

The old couple orders a coffee and a tea. They both throw kind smiles my way as I dash over to the counter to pass on their orders. It's way too busy for a Sunday.

Bile threatens to rise up my dry throat every now and then but i gulp it down, willing myself to at least finish my shifts. As the couple's order is being fixed i serve my next table: table number seven.

If i wasn't hungover I'd react a bit more to what i see. Mr White is sat there with his sketch book and he seems, as usual when he sketches, completely invested. Focusing only on the sketch infront of him.

On any other day this would be awkward but I'm too out of it to give a single fuck. "Good afternoon. Welcome to Kelly's pastry shop. May i take your order?", I say all this focusing on my words and hoping i don't vomit.

He peels his eyes from his sketchpad and looks at me. If he is surprised he's doing a great job at hiding it.

His dark eyebrows furrow. He looks me up and down curiously. "You don't look okay.", He starts.

"I don't feel so good either.", I mutter but force a smile which makes the sides of my head pound furiously. "May i take your order, Mr White?", I repeat.

"I'll take two ginger bread muffins. And it's Grey when I'm off school grounds.", He tosses me a small smile before i leave.

I take all my orders and pass them around only messing one of them up, which is a new high score for me. Thoughts of how both Mr White's surname and first name are colours cross my mind in the process. I'd laugh about it but that would only make my headache worse. By the time Harry leaves after clean up the crowd that filled the shop has thinned.

There are still three occupied tables in the shop, one of which is Mr Wh--Grey's.

I wipe down some of the tables and clear up the tables that were occupied when the customers leave.

I'm about to grab the keys and lock up when i notice Grey still sketching. I walk up to him. "Sorry to disturb you but it's time to lock up."

His gaze shoots up from his sketch to me then to his watch. "I hadn't noticed.", He starts to gather his things but stops mid-pack up when he looks at me to say something. His lips open and close without a single word said. Then he speaks. "I've mentioned this before today and not to irritate you or anything but you don't look so good.", He scans my face. "Have you eaten?"

My instincts tell me to lie to him but before I can say anything i am betrayed by my tummy when it grumbles. "Thought so.", He says. "Here, I figured you probably hadn't eaten when you took my order so I bought this for you."

He hands me one of the ginger muffins he ordered earlier and motions for me to sit. I obey, despite myself. Grey sits back down and instead of sketching he watches me eat.

Being a dedicated hater of silence, especially the awkward kind, I start conversation. "What are you sketching?", I ask through a muffin filled mouth.

"It's a collection of different flowers. I saw it somewhere and it gave me this feeling i can't describe. I figured I'd draw it and maybe that way i could figure the feeling out. But black and white can only do so much.", He shows me the sketch. "Though i know you're not asking out of interest but to start conversation."

The words get stuck in my throat when he says that. The way he says it verges on serious but the smile on his face says otherwise.

I bite my lip thinking of what to say next. I fold one of the beige napkins on the table trying to think of something -- anything -- to say. Mr Whit--Grey opens his mouth to speak but not a word is allowed to leave his mouth when the bile in my throat rises too quickly for me to stop it and comes flying out of my throat, into my mouth then finally out of my muffin-crumb covered lips and right onto Grey.

He looks surprised but not angry and all he manages to do is raise his hand trying to figure out what happened. I cover my mouth and try to force some words out. "I am so sor--", a new wave of vomit threatens to exit my system. I stand up way faster than normal and rush over to the ladies room.

I don't notice Mr White is behind me until i feel my braids being pulled from my face as i retch my insides out. The seven minutes i spend hurling feel like hours with an extra five minutes of dry heaving.

I stand up from my position on the floor when I'm satisfied and sure I'm done. Mr White busies himself with cleaning himself up and i can feel heat rise right up my neck in embarrassment.

"Thank y--", I'm interrupted once again but this time by my phone. I dismiss the alarm and thank Mr White. "I have to lock up and pick my brother up."

Mr White finishes up and waits for me as i lock up. Just to make sure, i tell myself. I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and ready myself to go.

"You're going to pick your brother up alone?", He asks me. I look around and find it's still light outside the sun is just beginning to set, enough time for me to run home and pick Henry up. His question confuses me

I nod.

"I'm not so sure that's the best idea after what just happened. I'll drive you over."