Baby I've Got My Eye On You

My parents had been away for a week now, apparently ‘working out the creases in their marriage’. Creases my arse; perhaps by crease, they mean hugely fucking massive un-repairable tear, which I may accept as been almost accurate.The days when they didn’t call, I felt much better. When they didn’t call, I didn’t have to hear my mother lie about how ‘well’ things were doing while my dad yelled to high heaven in the background. Eventually, Beth and I stopped answering the phone whenever we knew it would be them calling, just letting them roll on to the answering machine and then played rock-paper-scissors to find out which one of us poor souls would have to sit and listen to the message. A bit sad really, and though it may not be very sympathetic, I was enjoying the fact that I couldn’t see or hear them, the fact that I couldn’t hear my mother screeching or see the veins standing out of my father’s forehead when he got angry. Truthfully, I was dreading their return.
As for Beth, she hadn’t mentioned anything about the past events of our pathetic drunken shenanigans and I was quite glad of it. If she couldn’t remember she couldn’t ask questions. Moreover, I think it would be much too awkward if she could recall exactly what she told me that night.

Despite her vow of remaining sober the rest of her life and ‘never drinking again’, Beth had seemed to not have learned from her mistakes and was determined to take me out round town with her boyfriend and a few of her friends. I was absolutely dreading it. Beth’s boyfriend Tommy was rich as fuck, having inherited his parent’s business when they retired, and owned a fairly exclusive club in town. I didn’t mind Tommy at all, despite the fact that I knew most of that evening I wouldn’t see my sister at all because he would be much too busy with her in the office room of the club, it was Beth’s friends that I disliked: they were all full of themselves and looked down at me because I was younger and quite shy. None of them had much to shout about appearance wise either, but seemed to think they’d make it as the next top model if that’s what they so desired. Yeah right.
“Beth, I really don’t see why you want me to go tonight” I whined, watching my sister through her bedroom mirror as she put a few curls in her shoulder length blonde hair.
“You always stay in, Roz” she said sighing, “Stop being so anti-social.”
“Beth, you know you’ll only end up with Tom all night and I’ll be stuck with your friends. And they all hate me!”
“Oh they do not, Rosie,” she said rolling her eyes. Yes they did.
“But-”
“Listen, little sister. Mammy and Daddy are away and this could be one of the only chances you’ll get to actually get in to clubs underage”
“I could if I wanted to” I said, remembering what Syn had said, “I look older than my age.”
“Yeah, but you wont go”
“I don’t really want another hangover like the other day, Bee.”
She turned from the mirror and looked at me with a devilish smile.
“Oh you wont, it’ll be much worse”
“Beth I don’t want to”
“Look, just come, I feel bad about having fun knowing that as soon as I leave you’ll mope about in your bedroom listening to music then go to bed. You don’t even have to drink if you don’t want to but Tommy will sort it so we all get special treatment. Please Roz.”
I took a deep sigh. Well, I did need a cheering up. I’d felt fucking ridiculous for days now given that I hadn’t heard from Syn. It wasn’t that I was waiting for him to get in touch with me, that would be a bit weird and I shouldn’t expect it anyway, it was the thought of him been disgusted about how drunk/hungover I was the last time I saw him, and the idea that that might be why he hadn’t called.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly, before slapping a smile on my face, “If it means I have an excuse to wear my heels, I’ll go.”