The Dorm Guard

*

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, a fistful of Mia"s hair in my hand, as she dry retched into the toilet. She coughed and spluttered and groaned, her hands clutching the rim of the seat as occasionally something came up. Between vomits, she straightened, panting as her face alternated between shades of green and nauseating pales.

The car ride hadn"t been good for her stomach, and instead of finding something to prevent her from vomiting, I figured it was better for her to let it out when we came home. I had yet to tell the other girls what happened, instead I told them Mia and I were calling it a night. I felt really c.r.a.ppy for leaving Alexis there, but she seemed to understand.

When Mia sat up, I dropped her hair, looking around my person for a hairband. She either slipped or lost her balance, but she was sitting on the floor by the toilet, rubbing her eyes with her hands, trying to blink away the drunken tears.

"Feeling any better?" I asked, going through the medicine cabinets.

Mia lifted her hand, showing off a brown hairband on her fingertips. I thanked her as I took it and started tying her hair up. Mia grumbled, "No…"

While a messy job, her hair at least wouldn"t be in her eyes if she hunched over the toilet again. "Better to get it out," I commented, sitting beside her.

She resembled a doll at this moment, a doll whose head was too big for its body, so it constantly lolled forwards or sidewards or backwards whenever it moved.

She sniffed, "Alcohol can make people sad, can"t it?" she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the white tiles of the bathroom floor, "I thought alcohol could make me feel happier, maybe forget what happened." Her eyes turned red, making her blink a lot, "But I still know what happened. What they said about me. What people think of me… They pity me." Mia"s jaw clenched, her stare turning into a far-off glare. She gritted her teeth and stood up, "Why does everyone hate me?" she shrieked, her voice bouncing off the bathroom walls as she pushed everything off the bathroom counter, punching individual bottles as she listed, "My parents! My sister! My friends! My own cla.s.smates! Why can"t I do anything right?" Tears streamed down her face as she looked at herself in the mirror, barely able to see her face from her short stature.

I shook my head, still on the floor with my arms up from the rain of skincare products and toothpaste. I got to my knees to reach out for her. "Mia, no one hates you," I tried, but she dismissed me.

"I"m not going to hurt myself, Landon." She sounded exasperated.

I blinked, "I didn"t say you were."

"What else would you say?" she sniffed, shoving me away and backing towards the doorway, "You aren"t just going to say to me that you hate me." Upon saying this, her face relaxed, and she tilted her head, her back hitting the door, "Or maybe you would… I mean, everyone else has made it very clear that they hate me." She sniffed again as she slowly slid down the wall until her b.u.t.t met the ground. "Very clear."

A silence formed between us, mainly from my inability to voice something, as I squatted in front of her. "Landon, everything is much quieter now," she eventually said, resting her head against the door to look at the white ceiling, "Even the colours are quieter. The outside. The way you talk." She reached and pinched my cheek. "You"re stupid pretty, pretty, pretty face."

I grabbed her hand, detaching it from my face. "Quieter?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes widening as she dropped her head and closed them. "I didn"t think it would be," she stated opening them, "I just hoped it would do something, and it did. It"s almost worth this s.h.i.tty feeling in my chest. I feel great. Wonderful. Perfect… Mar-Marvellous…" There was a catch in her throat as she looked at my fingers, her lower lip trembling as tears welled and just as quickly dripped down her cheeks, retracting her hands and resting her fists on her legs.

She took a deep, shaky breath, as she asked, with an almost pleading tone, "Why does everyone hate me, Landon?"

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head as I reached out for her. "I can"t answer that, Mia," I answered, "But I don"t hate you. I know Bonnie doesn"t hate you, and neither does any of our friends here in the dorm."

Mia sniffed, wiping her eyes as she started crying, her sobs growing louder until they were wails. I reached forward and wrapped my hands around her, the small girl reaching forwards and latching onto my shirt. I shifted, her head transferring to my lap as she snivelled.

I rested my hand on her back and sighed, "Sweetie, I promise you, no one hates you."

Mia paused, her breathing still uneven as she muttered, "I would."

*

I stood in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea as the others came home, apparently in a better mood then myself. Robyn and Ava didn"t go into the kitchen, and I couldn"t hear Estelle when they all walked in, but I heard Bonnie"s wheelchair rolling down the hallway and Alexis" distinct bell chime as she rung it.

The two appeared in the doorway, the twins behind them and greeted me when they saw me in the kitchen. "How was the dance?" I asked, sipping my tea.

"A lot of fun, actually," Alexis admitted finding the counter chairs and sitting across from me, "One of the teachers brought out a cotton candy machine. Made such a nice sound."

"People are still there dancing," Amada informed, taking a glance at the late hour, "But it was awesome!"

"Where"s Mia?" Bonnie asked when she got around the counter.

I gestured with my chin to the lounge section.

After a particularly depressing crying session, Mia threw up again while I went to get her some pyjamas, her favourite pink giraffe onesie. After some drunken objections, I managed to clean her up and get her in the onesie to plonk her on the lounge since she refused to go to bed. After some debate, I gave her a box of tissues, some mint tea in a water bottle, and set her up on the lounge to listen to her antique radio. Peering over to her, she was still there, lying down with her head on a pillow listening idly to the French lady"s voice.

At the sight of her, Bonnie immediately rolled to her, pounding her with questions of if she was okay. I wondered if Mia would talk again, or if her chatty mood was out of her system already.

Bonnie didn"t realise Mia was still partially drunk as her little sister sat up and reached forwards for a hug, sobbing lightly when Bonnie placed her on her lap. "It"s okay…" she shushed quietly, running her fingers through her hair in a calming fashion.

Alexis reached a hand forwards, Mia being consoled by both the twins and Bonnie, as she said, "I know what happened," she whispered, "How is she?"

I stole a glance at them, and sighed, "Not now. Later."

I pressed my cup to my lips and sighed, taking in the soothing smell of my tea. I couldn"t keep my eyes of Mia, even now she was a snivelling mess in Bonnie"s arms. I knew I had to tell Bonnie at some point, but I wondered when or if there was ever a good time to do that. Was sooner rather than later the best approach or the let"s never tell another living soul, approach?

Even now, Mia didn"t look good, and I doubted she"d look any better in the morning.

*

Bonnie wasn"t impressed when I told her the next morning, only when I had to provide an explanation as to Mia"s very drastic decline in general health.

She somehow had gotten paler, her eyes were bloodshot, she swayed and complained about headaches whenever she was vertical. In the end, I had minimal choice in the matter.

Soon, everyone in the dorm was aware of Mia"s little drunken mishap, much to her own embarra.s.sment, not that she was going to say or object to anything as she curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor, refusing aspirin.

"At least we know she won"t try this again any time soon," Alexis commented.

Mia was covering her eyes and blocking one of her ears as Bonnie enlisted me to get some aspirins. Estelle barged in the room, phone in hand, as she announced she was searching for hangover cures.

"I don"t think those work," Alexis informed.

"Well now we can test them," Estelle explained as she flicked through some lists, "So some bizarre drinks settle your stomach and wake up the mind."

"What"s in it?" Bonnie asked.

"Ginger, lemonade, honey, water, lemon, cuc.u.mber, mint extract and vinegar." As she listed the ingredients, she cringed at the names, "Gross, lemon."

"I"m not feeding her that," Bonnie snapped, s.n.a.t.c.hing the aspirin from me.

"Try water," Alexis called as she took her coffee and walked to the lounge, "Hangovers are dehydration based. You"re supposed to drink like two gla.s.ses or something before you go to bed."

Estelle continuing listing other remedies while Bonnie tried to urge Mia into taking some aspirin for a headache. All the while, I watched the twins, in particular, Amia, rolling their eyes at some of the cures Estelle listed. Amada seemed content smirking at the misinformation as he played his handheld, but his sister was growing less and less amused.

Mia was refusing the tablets, and Bonnie continued to try and fuss over her.

Amia sighed, "Estelle, stopped reading those," she instructed, "We all know none of them will work, and half of them are designed for throwing up, not settling the stomach. They"re only useful to get the alcohol out." She pushed herself to her feet, gaining everyone"s attention as she walked over to Bonnie and Mia. "You can"t make her task aspirin if she doesn"t want it," she explained, "If she"s going to be a big baby about it, then maybe she shouldn"t drink so much so quickly." Quite abruptly, Amia squatted down to Mia, grabbing at her arms and forcing her to stand straight. I was surprised Mia didn"t vomit. "You want a hangover cure? Here"s some hard reality; you"re gonna feel c.r.a.ppy, you"re gonna feel like you"re going to die, and that"s on you. You own what"s happening to you right now because this is what you did to yourself. Now, either I can fill up your water bottle, and you take some aspirin or get over your self-pity, grit your teeth and bear it like a big girl."

We all stood there in awe of Amia"s harsh words, all except for Amada who was still smirking. Bonnie seemed ready to say something to the twin, when Mia made a final sniff and took the tablets off Bonnie, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her nose at the sight of them. Amia nodded, going to the water bottle sitting on the counter and filling it up at the sink.

"Where"d that come from?" Alexis asked.

"Yeah, that almost sounded bada.s.s," Estelle added, turning off her phone.

"The moment you point out my bada.s.sery is the moment I"m no longer a bada.s.s," Amia informed handing the bottle to Mia. "Amada and I had our first drink when we were ten, and our Father is a heavy scotch drinker. He claims to have never had a hangover in his life."

"How"d he manage that?" Estelle asked, clearly impressed.

"We"re Italian," Amia started.

"It knows better," Amada finished, each sharing a chuckle.

Mia groaned as she took the aspirin and washed it down promptly with her water bottle.

"Father probably had hangovers, but said only a p.u.s.s.y complains about it," Amia informed crossing her arms, "Never let a hangover disrupt his work."

"You guys had your first drink when you were ten?" Bonnie asked.

"Well, Amada did," Amia clarified, "I had mine when I was twelve technically. In our family, the men drink scotch and whiskey on the day of their tenth, while women finish a bottle of red on the eve of their teens."

"You had to drink an entire bottle of red?" Alexis" mouth hung agape.

Amia chuckled, "Sounds like it, huh? No, all the women share the same bottle. I had to share with my Ziettas and cuginos."

"All the men have to basically down a shot of scotch without cringing," Amada informed, "Otherwise you get picked on."

Bonnie smirked, "How long they pick on you for?"

There was a long silence, prompting Amada to turn red until his sister rescued him. "I"ll have you know, Bonnie," Amia began, "Amada didn"t pull a face when he drunk his."

Bonnie tilted her head, raising a brow in surprise, before asking, "How long before you threw up?"

Amada slumped down the lounge and offered a grumble of an answer, to which Bonnie and Estelle laughed.

"Oh, like you could do better," Amia countered.

Bonnie stifled her amus.e.m.e.nt, "I don"t have to. It ain"t my family culture."

Amia sounded like she wanted to be mad but smirked along with Bonnie and Estelle. "You ever drink, Landon?" Amia asked.

I was in a sort of content daze throughout the conversation, and the question startled me. I hadn"t been much of a drinker, partially for medical reasons and others mainly included my main influencer in life, my Dad. I don"t remember it, but Dad had been a heavy drinker when I was younger apparently. One day he had an alcohol-related health risk and had sworn off it ever since. And throughout my country/continent-hopping childhood, he was sure to make me almost fear the stuff until I understood what had happened to him.

"Aside from some weird concoctions in Germany and the Middle East, not really," I informed, "It was an area where men would drink this disgusting stuff to keep warm or awake. Pretty vile."

"Would"ve figured with your travel history you"d have quite the alcoholic palate," Estelle cooed sitting on the countertop beside me.

"Underage drinking isn"t good for the health," I added, poking her nose.

She rolled her eyes, "Good G.o.d, are you one of those "my body is a temple" people?"

I snorted, "So what if I am? I don"t go around deliberately poisoning myself for fun."

"And hopefully neither will you," Bonnie said gravely to her sister, turning the attention back to her, "We already have Mum and Dad on our backs with letting us not be home-schooled, we don"t need them worrying about you because you"ve become some wineo."

Mia"s gestures were small and almost indecipherable, but Bonnie understood them, "Mia, stop saying that. Of course, they would care about something like this."

"Then how about you tell them," Mia signed with a bit more force, "See what happens?"

"Because I don"t want you to get in trouble," Bonnie countered, "Or Landon for that matter. Or that Dylan guy, or anyone if it was just an unfortunate one-off."

"I dunno, Bonnie. Look at that face," Estelle gestured to the otherwise sleepy looking Mia, "That"s the face of a drunk."

Everyone smirked, even Mia, as Bonnie scoffed, "Well, the great wineo can go back to bed now if she wants."

With a sign thanks, Mia staggered out of the room, her footsteps heavy when she stomped up the stairs. "Is the school aware of what"s happened?" Estelle asked a heartbeat after Mia was out of earshot.

Bonnie sighed, "I don"t know. And I don"t know how much I should tell them or if they"re aware or if they"ll even care at this point because of the holidays."

"Of course, they"ll care, Bonnie," Alexis answered sipping her drink, "You make out like the school"s the enemy, but they are there for a reason."

"To educate, not to referee the hormones and b.i.t.c.hiness," Bonnie countered as she rolled towards the lounge and parked beside Amada.

"Well, at least Mia"s not likely to do that again," Amia stated sitting next to her brother to watch him play, "I mean, she seems pretty miserable now."

"I wouldn"t be so sure about that," I stated, gaining all the girls" and Amada"s attention.

"Spill, now," Estelle instructed poking my face.

I had kept Mia"s words a secret until now but relaying them in my head, I realised she may try to do something like this again if she was desperate enough. I parroted what Mia had told me last night, about how she felt everything was quieter and how she seemed to enjoy it before she started crying.

"Mia told you this?" Bonnie asked, the more I said, the more closed off she became as she stared at the floor.

I nodded, walking up to the coffee table, "She seemed pretty adamant about it. I was baffled about it at first, but she seemed almost excited what that wine did to her."

Alexis bit the inside of her cheek in thought, slowly and cautiously voicing it as she said, "I think that"s something you need to tell your parents, Bonnie," she said. Bonnie lifted her head at this, Alexis continuing before she could comment. "If what Landon says is accurate, then Mia probably experiences sensory overloads. Alcohol dampens certain stimulants in your brain, that"s why everything was probably quieter for her last night."

Bonnie sighed loudly through her nose. "We know she has a lot of sensory overloads, it"s a weird symptom of her low E.Q mind state or whatever. She"s dealt with this without alcohol for eleven years."

"But last night was pretty traumatic," Amia commented, leaning on the back of the lounge, "I mean, even I would be pretty rattled after something like that, and Mia"s not even a teen yet, she hasn"t even developed what some of those horrible things said about her."

"Bonnie… Mia needs real help. Probably something more than pianos and bully advice and unfortunate alcohol trips," Alexis said.

"No. She doesn"t," Bonnie snapped, her hands in firsts on her armrests and her hair falling in front of her face, "I"ve been through all the stupid programmes those phonies subject you to, those pointless medications and meditation c.r.a.p that doesn"t work. I"m not putting her through that." Her voice was firm, and she didn"t yell, but she sounded eerie close to it. She shook her head, dismissing herself and angrily rolling out of the room.

Another silence blanket us, even Amada abandoning his game to offer uncertain looks, until Alexis sighed, "Landon?"

"Yeah, I"ll talk to her." I pushed myself to my feet and walked after Bonnie.

I found Bonnie in the backyard, facing the morning sun on the gra.s.s. I walked beside her and took in the clean morning air. "This was something I missed, you know," I said.

She gave me a side glance, "What?"

"I grew up around her. Twelve years or so before I was shipped off around the world with my Dad. Didn"t matter where I went though, there was nothing like the fresh smell of pines near Windmill Lake," I said, resting my hands on the back of my head.

"Mia"s not crazy," Bonnie said, ignoring my statement, "She doesn"t need some shrink telling her she is. She"s just a little different in a school that doesn"t appreciate that."

"There"s no shame in needing some help," I commented.

"I don"t need help," Bonnie snapped, "It"s always been Mia and me, we"ve gotten through horrible c.r.a.p together, we don"t need anyone else to tell us that there"s something wrong and to take deep breaths and it will just pa.s.s!"

"Perhaps you don"t need any help," I started, "But Mia isn"t you. She"s doesn"t have the same stubbornness, the same drive to take no c.r.a.p from anyone."

"She doesn"t take c.r.a.p from anyone," Bonnie informed.

"Yeah, and we can see how well that"s worked out for everyone," I replied, pocketing my hands. A small breeze hit the two of us as we stared at the hillside a few hundred yards from the back fence.

Bonnie broke the silence with, "Mia thinks she caused the car crash."

I blinked. "Car crash?"

Bonnie"s eyes dropped, looking at her legs. "The one that did this to me," she informed.

I felt my shoulders sag, my eyes dropping from the hillside to look down at her. "How?"

Bonnie sniffed, her lips shaking momentarily before she could speak. "Kids who get adopted out aren"t always the most stable for whatever reason. But my parents wanted to adopt for a few reasons at the time; it would look good for them, I would have a little sibling, and they just had this void in their hearts they just couldn"t fill at the time. Mia seemed like a quirky little girl, who was ridiculously bright and wordy and smart for an eight-year-old, they knew she would go on to do great things and needed their help to get there." She pushed some hair from her face, considering her comment as she added, "She never would"ve thrived in the system, you know?"

I had an idea.

Bonnie seemed simultaneously happy and sad saying this, "You should"ve seen her when we first adopted her, Landon, you wouldn"t even recognise her. She used to laugh and smile and sing…" Bonnie trailed off, seeing a clearer image of a previous Mia then I could, "But she was also temperamental, and loud, and had the most ear-piercing tantrums." Bonnie was right, I couldn"t recognise the type of person she was describing. "She was upset because we had forgotten her little sheep toy thing at home, but we were running so late my parents had told the driver to turn around for nothing. They were in a car ahead of us because they had to make business calls, or something irrelevant now, and watched as the driver drifted across the road and collided with an oncoming car."

Bonnie didn"t sob in a way I expected, her eyes didn"t turn red, and her voice didn"t hitch when she spoke. She seemed almost apathetic to the whole story, yet fresh tears still streamed down her cheeks, making me wonder how many times she"s told this story.

"Mia thinks her outburst in the car distracted the driver and made him drive into oncoming traffic," Bonnie finally clarified, "And for a while, everyone blamed her." Her voice trembled when she said this, "Including me."

The shame in her voice was heartbreaking as she continued. "There was a long time where I hated her for what she did to me. I mean, I was a kid, you know? I thought my life was ruined, over." Bonnie wiped the corners of her eyes, trying to blink away any new tears. "And it took me a while to realise she was a kid too, one who thought it was her fault she paralysed her then stepsister, and years after the fact thinks her parents still blame her for it."

Bonnie pressed her palms against her eyes, her hands showing the slightest tremble as she composed herself. "I told her to never speak to me again, that we would never be sisters after what she could just walk away from." Bonnie shook her head. "I never expected her to take it so literally, even after she forgave me and said she never hated me for it, she still never talked, or cried, or laughed, or sang…" Bonnie rested her cheek on her hand, a gloom forming around her as she sighed. "We thought we had caused each other"s unhappiness for such a long time, and to this day still do."

Bonnie faced me, her eyes puffy but the rest of her still composed. "I"m not subjecting Mia to what my parents made me go through when this happened to me," she gripped the arms of her chair, "Stuff like that did more harm than good for me, and I don"t think she can take that."

I took a knee to Bonnie, affected by her story and touched that she was comfortable enough to tell me, but I still said, "She needs some sort of help, Bonnie, because she is struggling, you are struggling. It"s accidental drinking today, but what about next time? What if it"s something different? Something worse? Something we can"t help her with the next day?" I took Bonnie"s hands in mine, to which she didn"t pull away, but her eyes looked to the gra.s.s. "Mia is a smart person, it"s not as simple as just saying, "there"s no alcohol on the premise, she"ll be fine." This is a potentially slippery slope for her, Bonnie." I gripped her hands tighter as I said, "You can"t blame yourself for this. You can"t fix this on your own. You need to tell your parents, someone." Bonnie didn"t seem convinced, her eyes firmly locked on everything but me. I sighed silently through my nose and finished, "Bonnie, she"s eleven years old."

Bonnie lifted her eyes, for a micro-second meeting mine, before she pulled her hands away from me, wiped away all traces of her distress and countered, "Thanks for listening. But I can handle this."

In my life, I had endured two heart attacks, one heartbreak, many sporting accidents and I have woken up dozens of times in cold sweats over unknown nightmares and anxieties. But none of those at that moment could compare to the heavy, deflated feeling that enveloped me as Bonnie rolled past me, leaving me still kneeled on the gra.s.s in the back yard.