Celadon Bay - Book One

The (mother-effing) call I

When I wake up the next morning, someone is beating the crap out of a gigantic drum inside my head. I can feel my eyeballs pulsating in perfect time with the drumming rhythm inside my skull. My alarm has decided I'm sleeping too heavily, and, in addition to its usual get-the-fuck-up music it plays, it's taking full axe swings right across my forehead. I open my eyes tentatively, but the sunlight attacks my pupils like hardcore laser beams.

A fucking hangover. Fantastic.

Somehow I muster the strength to climb down my bunk, dragging my feet across the wooden floor to the first desk drawer, because Alex's wisdom prepared me for this moment. I open the drawer and pull out a couple of Tylenols, then wash them down with a long swig of lukewarm water. I rub my eyes with my fingers, hoping this alone might relieve the pressure, but it feels like it has the opposite effect. I take another long swig of the disgusting lukewarm water, because I can't believe how thirsty I am.

I kick Martin to wake him up, but he's sleeping like a dead person, so instead, I just leave him alone and drag my useless legs to the kitchen. When I get there, I find Alex, up and dressed and making breakfast.

"Morning, Little John. Take a seat, it's almost ready."

I drag out a chair, collapse into it, and drop my throbbing head on the table.

"This sucks..." I mean to say good morning, but I can't help myself.

Alex chuckles a little. "Oh, so it kicked your head, huh?"

I want to hurl the table at him, but I have no strength for that. "How come you're okay? You drank a six-pack all on your own..."

He laughs loudly, shattering the stillness of the peaceful house while adding to the unruly noise inside my head. "Just how often do you think I drink, Little John?"

"Well, I haven't really seen you drunk so I guessed not a lot."

"You've never seen me drunk because, after so much partying, I've gained endurance." He places a big cup of steamy milk and coffee in front of me. "You might think drinking is a big deal now, but wait until you hit college."

"Yeah, I don't think I want to drink alcohol ever again."

"We all say that after our first hangover." He chuckles again before tossing me a banana. "Here. Eat this. Potassium is supposed to help with hangovers, too."

I don't know if it's the bananas, the pills, or the fresh air, but once Martin and I are outside and have walked a couple of blocks, I feel a lot better. I tell Martin this to prompt some conversation, because it's still pretty early, and he's not in full chat mode yet.

"You kind of look better," he says, giving me the once over. Then he yawns into the crook of his arm.

And that's it; he's just sleepy. There isn't a trace of a hangover whatsoever. How is that fair?

"It's probably in your best interest if Vee doesn't find out you woke up feeling like trash, though," Martin advises.

I nod. "You bet." If Vee notices, and I'm forced to tell her about last night's beach party, I'm in for some trouble. "I'll never hear the last of it."

"Yeah, and chances are it would be my fault."

"What do you mean? It's not like you shoved beer bottles down my throat."

"You know Vee," Martin says. "Every time you do anything unprecedented or unexpected she tends to think it's my fucking idea."

"Well, true that." My cousin has a point.

"Right?"

"I mean it's true that it's usually your idea to do stupid shit."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."