homecoming queen

"I'm a bad frieeeeeend!" I sob.


"Calm down."  


"I'm sorry I ruined your night." 


I look up at Sara. She's holding me like a cat. I haven't seen her in months and just barged into her apartment in a sad, drunk, panicked crisis. She strokes my hair.


"It's ok."


"I'll stop crying."


"You don't have to."


"I'm gonna throw up."


I run to the bathroom and hit her door.


"Watch your head!"


Between hugging the toilet and choking on tears I spot a blanket in the dirty laundry. With all the strength I have, I wrap it around myself and decide to sleep on the floor.


"Get up, Tea. I've made my bed for you." 


Berlusconi may be leaving Italy-but I'm ready for another year-of shitty drama, feeling terrible and making my friends take care of me.

"I'm glad I'm back."


"Me too."