This Diary I Found

17 :: Sideshow Accidents

CHAPTER 17: Sideshow Accidents

Sunlight's a bitch.

My mouth was dry, my head was pounding and my back was aching like it was run over by a bulldozer mid-sleep. The worst thing about it was that I wasn't in my room. Which meant there were no glasses of water, no Aspirins, no pillows, no blankets. No Emma.

I shot up to sit, despite the constant hammering in my skull. The morning sun was peaking between the hills over the fairgrounds. Flurries filled the empty space above.

It would have been a great view if it didn't fucking blind me!

I recounted the fragments of memories I had from last night. The food, the booze, the bread, the kiss.

Emma was no longer around. She did leave her canvas from last night. Just a few steps away from me were a Billie's Pizzeria menu and a chewed-up pencil. I smiled as I recalled the ridiculousness of our makeshift art class last night.

Then, I remembered why I made Emma draw me. Slowly, I picked the menu up. I studied the meals for a while, clearly delaying the sight of Emma's artwork. Billie's offered unlimited mozzarella sticks with every $99 purchase.

I exhaled. It's time to know whether it was Emma or not. I flipped the menu over. My eyes widened at the sight. For a moment, I was completely stunned. I took it all in. And, I laughed.

There was no drawing, only words. Emma wrote: "I don't really know how to draw. I just wanted to spend more time with you." A smiley face was scribbled on the bottom.

"Emma," I murmured , smiling but I didn't know what for. I folded the paper and pocketed it.

Stuffing the paper in, I fished my phone out, mainly to call her but also to check what time it was. The moment I unlocked the phone, it started to vibrate. How coincidental.

But, it wasn't Emma. It was Sage.

"Hello?" I greeted.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!" And there goes my eardrum.

"At home," I lied, nursing my throbbing head.

"It's Sunday!" she yelled and I took it as a lesson to hold the phone away from my ear.

"And?" I said and there followed a long pause.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

Forgot what? Let's see. Sunday... What happens on Sunday? "Church?" I tentatively asked.

"No, dumbass!" she screeched. "The theater! You said you were gonna help out!"

"Right, right! What time should I go there?"

"Get your ass ready and go there now! It opens in less than half an hour away and I want to see my cousin's bike, shiny and unscratched, parked outside when I get there, got it?!" she rambled and shouted the last phrase.

She didn't even give me the time to answer. She cut the line before "aye, aye" could come out of my mouth.

"Sheesh," I commented, just staring at the phone.

It was thirty minutes to nine. Knowing I couldn't rush home to take a shower and dress up even if some sort of miracle happened, I just opted to find my shoes, get the bike and cruise up to the theater to help out.

It seemed like an easy plan, but as I was picking up Emma's chewed-on pencil, the plan got shattered.

"You, there!" a heavily accented voice yelled. A man, in a grey suede suit, was lumbering down to the gazebo with two beefier men following behind him. "You are trespassing on Familia Navarro's private property!"