Gemma thought she might be lost. Truly, she felt so weak, lately. She hadn't the courage to drink under all this pressure. She was so afraid she'd lose herself more than she always was. And being at the bar was not helping.
"I need you." She called Lyle on her cell.
"Don't shit me like this!" Lyle wasn't much help.
"What?" She was frantic. A panic attack was surrounding her, pulling her down as if she might disappear if he didn't come quick.
"Hang on! Don't go anywhere! I'll be right there. OK!" Lyle told her.
She just nodded.
"Are you nodding, right now?" He wanted to know.
"Yeah." She breathed.
Thankfully, he was coming. Of course, it seemed for ever in the masses. Finally, he showed up about 30 minutes later.
"Are you all right?"
"Dizzy." She nodded.
"Why didn't you say so?" He demanded.
"Sorry." Her lips felt so chapped. Her body saw raw. Really, it was quite disgusting. He helped her back to his place.
Finally, the were in the quiet.
"Honestly, I used to not be like this at all." She promised him while he made her tea. "I used to love a bloody good time. Its like I don't know how, now."
Lyle just nodded as she sat down the tea there in his bit of a kitchen.
As soon as Gemma saw the tea, she hurried to the bathroom to throw up.
"Shit! You're sick. What are you keeping from me?" Lyle yelled from his bedroom.
Gemma's eyes watered as she sat there on the bathroom tiles. She flushed the commode. Really, she didn't think she was keeping anything from him.