For You Honey? Anything.

Hangovers suck. My brain was pounding out of my skull the next morning. I rolled over and fell off Phoebe’s bed. I had that nasty taste of vomit in my mouth and my eyes screamed at me every time I tried to open them. I felt all my clothes on meaning I did not get raped or laid. Plus I think I was already throwing up from the booze before I could consider that. I waited a couple of minutes before trying to lift myself off the floor.
Pulling myself up I sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands waiting for my headache to calm down when all of a sudden Phoebe’s grandmother bursts through the door. “Wake sweeties! You slept through breakfast. If you’re going to party you have to be able to at least act that you didn’t in front of your parents. But its ok niñas, I covered for you.” She said as she handed me a glass of water. Her voice made my brain jump out of my skull through my eye sockets and do a triple flip on the floor.
“Grandma your voice is so loud!” Phoebe yelled as she rolled over and covered her head with her pillow. “O hush. Here drink water.” The woman replied as she shoved the second glass in Phoebe’s hand. “Thank you,” I whispered as I took sips afraid that the water might go away.
It cooled down the pain but any hint of sound was annoying. “Man, it some party huh? You guys came home wasted! I had to help Aaron bring the two of you in here.” She began the story as she sat beside me on the bed making it creak a bit. Oww.. Then the woman muttered, “’Course it would have been easier if he wasn’t stumbling too.”
I cracked a smile before drinking more water. Phoebe’s grandma continued telling us what happened last night, how Aaron had a guy in the passenger seat of his car when he dropped us off. And how I stunk up the whole bathroom with my vomit. After that she began on her party from when she was our age, sneaking out etc.
After about an hour I got up, showered and changed. I laid down on the bed with my sixth glass of water while Phoebe made her way to the bathroom. The events of last night played themselves out in my head.
Booze, weed, flirting, dancing, getting wasted, and hungover. Six words that should never be in the vocabulary of a Muslim girl. I felt guilty naturally, but there was apart of me that said get the fuck over it. It’s the past, you had fun, you shouldn’t regret it. Should you do it again? Well that’s debatable. I smiled at my internal argument, it was only when his face popped in my mind’s eye that it vanished from my face.
My heart cracked a bit. Now, I understood part of the reason why my religion didn’t allow dating or association with boys. Look how fucking sad and depressed I am. God wants us to be happy right? So he put down some rules to make sure we stayed that way. I defied him last night, look where it got me.
I felt the ‘stay muslim forever’ intuition setting in. And with that the guilt skyrocketed.
Phoebe and I decided to call Aaron after our lunch time breakfast. It would give him enough time to sneak out the guy that most likely went to his house last night. Phoebe’s grandma set the stack of pancakes between us and asked if I had called my mom. That sounded like a good idea.
Phoebe began attacking the food while I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom’s number. Right as she answered I remembered it was Sunday, and she was at the Mosque for Sunday school.
“Hey mom,”
Asalamu Aleikum mama! How are you? Is everything okay?
“Everything’s cool mom. What about you?”
We continued like this for a couple more minutes before hanging up. My mom would come around after Sunday school to get me. I informed Phoebe’s grandma and began shoveling food in my mouth. Man, I was starving.
Aaron had managed to come by later that day. We rode around in his car, well more like parked around the block to avoid spending gas, yet still feel like we were out.
We mostly talked about last night, i.e. the booze and weed. We tried to steer clear of mentioning people in case he was brought up. I was in no mood to talk about him, much less think of him. I had my first wild party last night, I should be ecstatic for the next couple of weeks.
*Hayden’s POV
My fluttered open welcomed by the image of Eric’s car’s ceiling. I was in the passenger seat with a bag filled with a nic of weed inside. Eric was snoring on the driver’s side with the bottle of jack in his hand. I looked at the dashboard for the time only to remember that the car was off. I pulled out my phone, squinting to see the clock in the center of the screen. 3:00PM…Nice. it was definitely a new record. Mostly because I wasn’t waking up in some person’s bed.
Before gathering myself I grabbed a water bottle from the case Eric had in the back seat. He was a harder partier than I was, and he was always waking up in his car parked in God knows where.
The liquid helped my head clear a bit before I went back to my phone. Fifty missed calls and twenty text messages. All from my dad. The messages started out as ‘Hey where are you? Call me backs’ after around fifteen they began sounding like ‘Answer your goddamn phone’ The last message was pretty long. That one fell along the lines of, ‘Don’t even bother coming home’. Hey, that was fine by me.

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Asalamu Aleikum-Peace Be Upon You (Islamic Greeting)