
Cottage Terrace Inn, Room 106
You hold your head for a long time. It feels like it will crack open soon. You feel the pain of that but that is not even the worst of it.
You first tried banging on the bathroom door but then you realize that won't get you anywhere. You need your bag, the one still locked inside the bathroom along with your best friend, Tailar.
Best friend or former best friend?
The pain surges again. You close your eyes and pant like a big dog in the summertime. You begin chanting.
"Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag. Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag."
You repeat this over and over. Surprisingly, it helps a little. But not enough. You continue chanting as your mind goes here and there, "From ouch, that hurts," "To how did I get here?" to "Why is she mad at me again?" to "I wonder if I can trick her into going to his room and then maybe she'll get out of the bathroom."
Then a bright moment of clarity. That's right. She's mad because of that guy, that scruffy guy who is staying in the room 206. She's mad because she has plans for him--silly plans--and you are going to ruin them for her. She thinks that anyway. She thinks that because she doesn't understand anything going on. You have been trying to tell her but she won't listen. You thought that of all people, your best friend would listen. But you two were best friends back then and things aren't like they were back then.
That's what she doesn't understand, you think, and you never stop your chant.
You haven't really talked with your best friend Tailar in about a year. After the two of you graduated from high school, she went off to one school and you went to another. You saw her over the breaks. You spent time with her over the summer. You two even message back and forth. But she joined a sorority. She leads an active party life. She's drunk under the table by Friday night, not even Thursday night, and she cleans up just in time for her Monday morning 10 o'clock.
So, you ask yourself, why am I the addict?
"Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag. Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag."
This time, she suggested the road trip. She actually reached out to you and suggested driving for a few days to the place where the two of you would skate the special outdoor rink where you first taught her to ice-skate.
I used to ice-skate, you think to yourself. I used to be pretty good.
You try to remember the last time you skated on concrete, much less ice. You did not tell Tailar that you did not even bother looking for your skates. You know that you'll make a fool of yourself if you even try. That thought makes your eyes burn.
"Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag. Tailar, please. Open up. I just need my toilet bag."
You thought you would be able to tell her and that she would understand. Maybe she would even help. No, she only cares about the guy in room 206, the scruffy guy. What will happen when the two of you leave the trashy little Cottage Terrace Inn and continue on the trip? Who will she care about then?
You wince at the sound of a loud knock on the door. You want to sink inside yourself.
You decide to:
or
.
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