Wet For Teacher X

“You have to get up and do something, Nora.”

I glared at Rachael. “I am doing something, Rach. I’m eating ice cream and watching Netflix.”

“Is that alcoholic ice cream?” Rachael asked, glaring at my almost finished pint.

“Maybe,” I responded, glaring back.

“How much of that have you had? It’s only ten in the morning.” Rachael reached for the pint I was nursing against my chest. I hoped if I kept the cold bucket pressed against me long enough it might numb my broken heart.

“None of your beeswax,” I said, holding the ice cream out of reach. Rachael lunged for the ice cream but I scrambled to the other end of the couch.

Exasperated, Rachael pulled back. Hands on hips, she said, “You can’t just stay here and get drunk on ice cream all day.”

“Why not?” I asked, spooning more into my mouth.

“Because it’s…” Rachael struggled to find a reason. “It’s pathetic.”

“Well”—I pointed my spoon at her as I made my point—“I feel pretty pathetic so at least what I’m doing matches that.”

Rachael perched