A Night's Reward

Ava’s POV Her words echoed relentlessly in my mind. “I'm sorry Ava, but you have to leave the school premises as soon as possible," she said impassively. "Attempt to go against instructions will leave us with no choice but to let the police handle everything.” I shook my head vigorously in disbelief like it would change her statement. “No, ma'am, you have to let me explain myself, That's not mine,” I pleaded with a shaky voice, looking at the item on her table like it had just burnt me. “Ma'am, I promise you, they are not mine. I don't know how they got there,” I said truthfully. I honestly did not. I have never done drugs in my life and had never even seen them up close, not to talk of selling them like I was being accused of. I turned to my roommate. “Tara, please tell them. You know me and you know that's not mine. I would never,” I pleaded with her. Mrs Dougg was not interested in listening to any word from me. “Miss Hale, we have heard all that we need to hear, and our decision is final. As of today, you are no longer allowed to step foot on the university grounds,” she said sternly. “You are dismissed, Tara. Thank you so much for your help,” she said to my roommate Tara nodded, avoiding my eyes as she hurried toward the door. “Tara, wait!” I called after her, my voice tinged with desperation. “Please, tell the truth.” She hesitated, her hand frozen on the door handle. Slowly, she turned to face me. “What truth, Ava?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep covering for you. I don’t want to be dragged into this mess. You need help!” “Tara, I need help? You know me better than anyone!” I pleaded, stepping closer. “You know I don’t even drink alcohol, let alone…” “Ava,” She cut me off, her voice colder now. “ I can’t do this anymore. I thought you were my friend, but I can’t stay friends with someone who…” she hesitated. “... someone who is an addict.” “Tara…” I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Maybe it's because I knew they wouldn't be heard anyway, or maybe my voice box failed me and Tara was already walking away. Whichever it was, it made me cast a dejected look towards the door before making my way to it. As I walked out of the administrative block and towards the residential building, I could see fingers being pointed my way, following hushed whispers between friends and gossip partners. By the time I reached my room, I found it empty. My roommates were both out, and I let out a loud breath I didn’t know I held I closed the door behind me and locked it with trembling hands, slid down the cool wooden surface, and let all my feelings rush back in. I hugged my knees to my chest as a heavy sob racked through my body, shaking my frame. Thoughts of how to break the news to my parents flooded my mind, making the tears rush even more. I prayed silently that the Vice-Chancellor wouldn’t send an email to my parents otherwise, I’d be as good as dead. Mr and Mrs Hale were the perfect definition of strict parents. Academically, we shouldn't f**k up. Yet, here I was, the biggest f**k up of all. A few minutes later, my phone rang again. It was my mother. Frightened, I watched the phone ring for a few seconds before stopping. My sobs grew stronger as I kept staring at my screen then her angry text popped up. “Ava Hale. Call me right back this instant!” The message read. I turned off my phone and flung it onto my bed on one side of the room. I stood up, dusted the dirt off my jeans, and headed for my wardrobe. There was no way I could get through the rest of that evening feeling sober. It was just 6 pm but who cares? I needed a drink. I clutched my purse as if it were the final piece of my life, the city lights streaking past as I wandered through the streets on the blurry walk to the bar. Tears fell down my cheek with silent sobs wracking my chest with every step, catching the attention of passers-by. The bar loomed ahead, its entrance bathed in a dim, flickering blue light. As I stepped inside, a mix of sweat, stale alcohol, and a faint tang of smoke hit me. The air buzzed with muffled conversations and laughter, but all I could hear was the roar of my thoughts. “Are you sure this is alcohol?” I asked the bartender when he passed in front of me. I was perched up on one of the barstools, almost done with the second glass of whatever that was. “Yes it is and I think you've had enough,” he said, attempting to pluck the glass out of my grasp but I swatted his hand away. He had kind eyes and looked like he was genuinely concerned but I wasn't interested in stopping. “It's not making me forget. I need something stronger,” I said. When he ignored me, I gave my best puppy dog eyes which apparently wasn't convincing enough. The events of earlier that day played on a loop in my mind. “Are you okay?” I heard a man ask, snapping me back to reality.