I Still Remember

It’s the middle of July now and I’m a hot mess waiting to get even worse. I cry at random, I either go a day eating or a day starving myself, and I look like the world comes to an end. Sydney keeps telling me she’s worried for me. It’s been two weeks since Marc popped the question to the bitch, and I haven’t talked to anyone but Jared, Jordan, and Eric.

It’s a Thursday night and Sydney comes into my room to see me on my bed watching the Notebook with a pillow curled up to my chest. She’s sitting on the edge of my bed as I throw the pillow at the TV when the fight scene comes on. She turns the TV off and looks at me. “You need to get out of the house.”

“I think I’ll pass.”
“You’re mom called.”
“What did she want?”
“To ask if we got Marc and Francescas invite. The wedding is September 13th. It’s a Friday.”
“We’re going to the bar.”
“I’ll call Kanner and all of them and maybe they’ll meet us?”

Sydneys best friend was Patrick Kane. I sighed as I pulled a pair of jeans over my ass. I was going to get drunk off my ass and forget about the damn wedding. I nod my head and she makes the phone call. Her, Kanner, Toews, and Stalberg all agree to meet at the underground.

We get there a few hours later and all sit at a high table. They knew everything about Marc and I, because Sydney opened her mouth about it to Kanner, who told Toews and Stalberg. They all told me I deserved better than Marc.

To bad I couldn’t see it that way.

“What can I get you guys?” The waitress asked.
“Shots to go around and an order of wings please!” I yell.
“Someone is more excited to get shitfaced than I am!” Kanner yelled.
“I don’t want to think about the damn wedding right now!”
“Someone is alittle determined, aren’t they?” Toews asks as the shots come around and we all take one.
“A SHOT TO MARC STAAL! MAY THE ASSFUCK BURN IN HELL!”

I drink the shot down and ask for a Bud Light. Five minutes later, my beer comes along with the buffalo-wings. I then proceed to order more beers, which meant Sydney was going to be the designated driver for the night. “Gina honey, I think you need to lay off the beers for a while. How about a water?”

“No! I WANT A BEER!”
“Okay, you can have a beer.”

The beers keep coming in and I’m singing a drunken version of Life if a Highway with Kanner. The song ends and I come back to the table but stop when I see her. It wasn’t Francesca but it was the other person in my life that I didn’t want to see.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Gina Pisani.”
“Marissa Giovanni,” I mumble drunkenly.

Before I continute with this, Marissa and I hated each other in high school. After my dad died of cancer, she made my life more of a living hell. In fact, she almost beat the living shit out of me, but Eric stepped in and beat the lights out of her older brother during a hockey game. It was magnificent. “I heard about your sister, good to know theres another downfall in your family.”

“Marissa, I’m drunk right now, don’t fuck with me,” I yell.
“I also heard about Marc, such a shame that you never won him over.”
“Get the fuck out of my face you bitch.”
“Or you’ll do what? Eric isn’t here to kick my brothers ass.”
“Marissa, get out of my face.”
“Or what, you’ll go run to Eric in Thunder Bay?”
“No, but I’ll do this!”

With that, I pushed her and she pushed back. The punches began rolling. I then feel her give my one in the eye and I remember blacking out at that point.

-black out-

I don’t recognize my surroundings. There’s a white light. I’m lying on the floor of the Underground, but no one is there but me. I see a man approach me. He’s about six foot and has brown hair. He’s got tanned skin and big blue eyes. He sits next to me as I take a closer look at him. “Didn’t Eric teach you how to throw a good punch?” He says as I recognize that voice.

“Dad?”
“God, you look like your mother. Now answer my question. Didn’t Eric teach you how to throw a good punch?”
“I’m drunk right now dad. Eric didn’t teach me how to fight while drunk.”
“Fair enough. How are you sweetie?”
“My life sucks right now dad.”

My dad nods his head at me. I’m now sitting Indian Style on the floor rubbing my head. God I feel hung over. “Yeah I know. Is Lindsy out of rehab?” he asks as I shrug. I haven’t talked to mom since Sydney and I left Thunder Bay that I had no idea about Lindsy and how she was doing. “She’s very worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

“Dad I miss you so much. Please tell me Marc isn’t going to marry that whore.”
“Be nice.”
“Is bitch a better word for her?”
“Jesus you are like your mother.”
“Yeah I know.”
“I can’t give you that information.”
“You suck right now.”
“Don’t blame me, blame the big man.”
“Dad, I love Marc.”
“I know you do. I remember the first day you met him and you ran up to me and said, ‘Daddy! Is that prince charming!?’”
“Did I really?”
“You did. Don’t be bitter though, I raised you better than that.”
“I’ll try.”
“I have to go now.”
“Dad, wait!”
“I love you Gina.”
“Daddy! Daddy wait!”

-Reality-

“DADDY!”
“Gina!”
I wake up with a head ache and find myself in my room, not at the underground. I sit up to see Sydney sitting on my bed with a waterbottle and tylonol. I take both from her and wash them down. She’s shaking her head. “What happened last night?” I ask her.

“Didn’t Eric teach you how to throw a good punch?”
“My dad just asked me that.”
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
“Anyways, you’re mom called. Her and Lindsy are on there way.”
“WHAT!?”
“Just go get read and cover up that black and blue eye with make up, okay?”
“I saw my dad while I blacked out.”
“You probably hallucinated.”
“No, I saw him on the floor of the underground.”
“What did he say?”
“That Eric should’ve told me how to fight while drunk, that I look and act like my mom, and that I shouldn’t be bitter.”
“Typical Mr. Pisani.”
“I know.”
“Just go get ready, okay?”
“Fine.”

I splash water into my face and look in the mirror. Marissa gave me a pretty nice black eye. Explaining this one to my mother was going to be fun. Oh shit, her and Linsdy who isn’t going to be too happy about my drunken spree were coming. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror. My dad was right, I shouldn’t be too bitter.

But what was he trying to tell me?