Eight Days A Week

Kennedy walked onto her bus, thankful that everyone was at the party and no one was on the bus to see her like this. He set her down on the couch and started rummaging through the cabinets searching for something to put in her stomach. Nothing. Only figures. Finally, after pondering it, he decided it would be better to get her sober instead of putting something in her stomach. He didn’t want to risk getting thrown up on again. He found the coffee beans and pulled out the coffee pot.

Cappie, completely disoriented, stood up and wobbled over to Kennedy. “I can do it myself.” she slurred, trying to grab it from him. He held it from her. “K-K-Kennedy,” she was getting agitated.

“Caps,” Kennedy was beginning to get frustrated. Why did she have to do this when he was trying to help her. “stop it.” He held it to his side out of her reach. Cappie huffed as she lunged forward, sending the coffee beans dispersing everywhere. Kennedy sighed to keep from yelling out in anger. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

Cappie’s hands flew over her mouth, as a small smile crept on her face. She was enjoying this way too much. A quiet giggle escaped from her lips. “Whoopsie daisy.” She squealed, looking at the mess she just created to Kennedy. Kennedy took her by the shoulders and set her down on the couch. She didn’t say anything, but just giggled. Kennedy found a broom and dust pan, then proceeded to clean up Cappie’s mess.

“Kenny,” she groaned. He looked up at her, concern immediately washing over his face when he saw how she looked. “I don’t feel so good.” He quickly put the broom back and looked at her. Cappie’s hand instinctively flew to her mouth as she pushed past Kennedy into the tiny cramped bathroom. Kennedy rushed in behind her and bent down to pull her hair out of her face. More orange bile projected from her mouth.

Once Kennedy was sure she was done, he grabbed a paper towel and ran cold water over it. Ringing it out he pressed it to Cappie’s forehead, then proceeded to get her a glass of water. She chugged it, letting out a tiny belch when she was done. When her head began to loll to the side, Kennedy knew it was time to put her to bed. He picked her up bridal style and carried her to the back room, since he didn’t know which bunk was hers.

He grabbed a pair of her pajamas from her suitcase and went back to the back room where he left her, laying on the couch. “Why are you doing this?” she mumbled, as he began to change her.

He sighed yet again. “You know why Cappie.” he answered.

“Well you’re too little too late.” she said, with more sobriety this time.

“What?” He took her dirty clothes and laid them in a neat pile at the base of the couch. She laid down and closed her eyes. He grabbed a blanket from the other couch from across the room.

“That night you…” she trailed off, feeling so weak and so tired.

Then it occurred to him. “Wait, are you saying that if I had chased after you, we would still be together?” he asked her.

“Well if would have been nice if you fought for me.” she replied, as he covered her up. She swatted his hand away and pulled the covers up to her neck.

“Caps,” Kennedy couldn’t say anymore, because he had heard a quiet snore escape from her mouth. He looked and noticed she was sleeping peacefully now. The covers fell from her body. He covered her back up and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Kenny,” She stirred slightly. He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. He got up to leave, turning his back on her sleeping form. But before he could take his first step, he felt something grab a hold of his hand. He looked down to see Cappie looking up at him, through barely open eyes. “Don’t leave.” she mumbled groggily.

This made his heart skip a beat. He sat back down on the floor by her. “I won’t.” he said. “I promise.” He saw a small smile play on her lips, as she went back to sleep. Kennedy noticed that she hadn’t let go of his hand, but instead held it close to her.