Last Friday Night ~ tamber

25 ~ 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

When I got home yesterday, Tara wasn't there. I waited for her for hours, I even sent her "a few"messages. She didn't answer to any. I made dinner for us, but I didn't even eat it because of my nerves. I wanted to eat with her.

I spent the whole evening wondering why she was ignoring me. I was freaking out not knowing where and with whom she was. I even texted some people, maybe they saw her somewhere. Nothing. Worst scenarios flashed through my mind. I was really scared. I sat on the couch for about 5 hours, hoping that she would come in soon and explain everything to me.

All this waiting time, I was thinking about the morning. Did I really say something I shouldn't? I wanted to be honest with her. Maybe I shouldn't open up.

It was after midnight when she finally returned. I immediately got up and walked over to her. Tara didn't look me in the eyes. Her face looked even more confused than in the morning. I could smell the alcohol off her, so I moved away and just let her pass. I didn't want to talk to her when she was drunk. That would probably end badly. I have no idea what I said wrong that she had to drink.

She didn't go to my room. She went straight to the guest room where she was supposed to sleep at first. I was a bit disappointed, but it's okay.

— Tara — I said while trying to wake her up

We have to go to school and I don't care if she has a hangover.

— Tara — I repeated and she turned around

She's wearing clothes from yesterday. Her hair falls over her forehead. Looks like she's exhausted. I wonder how much she drank.

— What, Amber? — she asked silent

— Go take a shower. We're leaving in hour and half.

— Where?

— School.

— Jesus.

Reluctantly, she got up and ran a hand over her head.

— I hope you had fun at least! — I said a little pissed off

— Not now, please.

I clenched my teeth but nodded anyway. I left the room and went to get ready. I still need to make her some vitamin-packed breakfast. What if she hadn't eaten anything but breakfast yesterday?

Honestly, I didn't expect Tara to act like her mother in this whole situation. Drinking without any occasion? It's not her. I need to talk to her before this all goes wrong.

...

We ate breakfast separately. I couldn't sit at the same table with Tara because it would lead to an argument. I am mad. I have a right to be mad.

I texted and called and she gave no sign of life. I felt ignored, but most of all I was worried.

When we left, I locked the house and opened the gate with the remote. We got into the car, still in silence. Tara is wearing sunglasses. And it's good because without them she looks like after a week's rave. I started the engine and quickly squealed out of the driveway.

— You want to kill us? — she asked and looked at me

— Oh, so you know how to talk?

— What?

No, Tara. Don't pretend you don't understand.

— Don't act stupid — I said and gripped the steering wheel tighter

— What's wrong with you?

I took my phone out of my pocket and dropped it on her lap. I know I'm being aggressive but I have reasons.