Lavender Monarch has Exactly Thirteen Fears

04. weird curiosity

I didn't know what hangovers felt like until now. I wish I still didn't.

To make it worse the moment I open my eyes I see both my parents standing in my doorway with looks of equal parts bewilderment and anger plastered on their faces.

"What were you thinking?" my dad yells at me. I sit up and rub my eyes. What is he talking about?

"I thought you were smarter than that," my mother cries throwing her hands up. All of last night comes flooding back to me. The party, Jade, dancing and June. Oh, God. A wave of shame rushes over me. I must have looked like such an idiot. I still have no memory of how I made it home and into bed. I can hardly understand what my parents are saying to me over the pounding of my head.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I won't do it again."

"That's right you won't. Next time we won't be so easy on you." My mother stalks back off downstairs and my dad just looks at me.

"Please just be more responsible next time, ok?" I thought I'd be getting into much deeper trouble than this but I'll take the free pass if they're giving it to me. "June's downstairs. He came to see how you were doing. Oh and try some ginger tea, it'll help with the headache."

I go downstairs and he is already at my kitchen bench sipping an apple juice and chatting with my mum. He smiles when I come over.

"Hey. Wild night, huh?" he smirks. I bury my face into my hands. God, this is embarrassing. I have no idea what I did or said to him.

"I'm so sorry you had to come to rescue me."

"You know I would do it anytime."

"You're lucky to have him around. I wouldn't have driven out to come and get you," my mum says as she walks out of the kitchen. "He's a keeper, Lavender." I hate it when my parents act like we're a couple. Both of them have been rooting for it since we were kids but it's just irritating.

"Still, I'm genuinely sorry you had to witness that," I say as I make myself a ginger tea, adding in a lemon slice to spice it up a little.

"It's chill. But you owe me!" he laughs. "You should've seen yourself. You're a terrible dancer when you're drunk." I take the seat next to him by the bench.

"Hey!" I cry but I know it's probably completely accurate. "It's not like I'm a good dancer sober either," I say sulking. He laughs and I bury my head into him. This only causes him to laugh harder.

"Anyways," he says, composing himself. "There's a reason I came over. I think we're ready for number two on the list." I groan.

"Can I at least hear your plan this time?"

"Fine. Your second fear is clocks. So we are going to go around this entire house and pull down every piece of brown paper that you've covered them with and then you will stare at one for five minutes straight." The authority in his voice scares me a little.

It's not so much a fear of clocks anyway, but more of time passing. Its scares me that every single second you live is a second that's gone. Forever. Every time you go to sleep, it's eight hours of your life you won't get back. So much time is wasted all my life and I can't help but think about it. And when I do, I fall into this downward spiral of anxiety and I can't help but start analysing every activity I do to see if it's a valid use of time. And then that analysing is wasting time, and thinking about all the time I've wasted is wasting time. And-

"Are you okay?" June asks and I mumble something incoherent in response. "You can still give up you know. You don't have to go through with this if it's too much. Everyone has their fears and most people never face them." I shake my head in defiance. I've had a change of heart since the cemetery.

"I can do this," I tell him and take in a deep breath.

"Okay," he grins. We set off around the house. There really isn't as many clocks as I remembered. One in the kitchen, one in the lounge and an alarm clock on my parent's dresser. I pull off the papers without looking. We head back down to the kitchen and June gives me a small smile. I glance up at the clock on the wall and it feels as if my heart has stopped.