"Pen?" Someone shakes my shoulder softly, "Penny, c'mon, wake up."
I groan.
"Penelope Davis!"
I snap my head up to see Cedric towering over me and whimper, my hand rubbing my neck as my head throbs. "Ow..."
"Get up, Pen." Cedric looks upset with his brow furrowed.
I try to listen, but my head is pounding. It's hard, but I climb to my feet with the help of Lola's ratty, old, pink couch and Cedric's strong hand.
"Penny, you have to stop this."
"No..."
"Look at yourself! You're drinking yourself silly every night, wasting the day away trying to get rid of your hangover, and eat and throw up at random times in between, and then you repeat the process. Are you proud?"
"No," I whine, clutching my head and mussing up my already-tangled brown hair, "stop yelling."
"I'm not yelling, Pen," he gives me a sobering smile, "my voice is barely above a whisper, if you'd take my word for it."
I smile goofily, "I'll always take your word for stuff, Cedric. We're best friends!"
He chuckles, "let's get you home, Penelope."
My eyes widened. "Marianne's going to be so angry..."
"We can stay at my place for a while, then. But I'm not leaving you here. Lola lives in a rotten neighborhood. Her parties are good, I'll admit," he gives a small shrug, "but you know as well as I do, Pen. This isn't a good place to hang around for too long."
I nod sleepily against his top. Cedric is holding me under my armpits to keep me upright, "my throat is dry, Cedric..."
"It always is. C'mon, I have a bottle of water with your name on it. You just have to walk to the car. Can you walk on your own?"
I shake my head slowly, "will you carry me?"
He sighs, but sweeps me into his arms easily. I didn't even realize he had removed his hands to do so until he did.
In the car, the street lights along the road lull me to sleep.
We're at Cedric's apartment when I wake up, stomach churning violently. I crawl out of the bed as quickly as possible and dash sloppily to the bathroom.
With the lights off, I hurl into the toilet. And as I do, I feel warm hands pulling my hair back gently. It's Cedric.
I'd noticed him sleeping in the recliner by his bed, the same bed he had lain me in. I didn't know I woke him, though.
I can't apologize. In too busy puking my guts out. But I'm always thankful. Cedric always ends up making me feel thankful.
Cedric always takes care of me. I don't deserve a friend like him. But he is there, always watching over me like a hawk. He doesn't even seem to mind the task, but I don't know if I could ever do what he does. Cedric is good, Cedric is my best friend, Cedric is Cedric. And even with the awful headaches and tummy turns and me spilling my nonexistent lunch into the toilet right this very moment, I wouldn't change a thing.
