Chapter 1: Brooke

"It basically starts out as no big deal, at least for now, I don't think it's a big deal. My newlywed husband Teddy (I suppose he goes by Ted now that we are out of college and hasn't been Teddy since he was 21) Sanders and I are on our honeymoon at an Americanized resort in Mexico, kind of lame to go to Mexico and not have the authentic experience of actually being in Mexico, but hell Ted and I are kind of shallow that way, hell we've always been shallow, I mean we were prom king and queen in high school after all and pretty much the Alphas in our Sororities/Fraternities.

Despite all the drama we've gone through in college, me sleeping with Ted's best buddy Pete, (Which I'm definitely not proud of) Ted getting a series of new girlfriends, Ted was down on his knees proposing to me. It was kind of pathetic now that I think about it, okay really pathetic we'd hardly seen each other in four years, We were both doing our own modeling gigs on opposite sides of town. Then one night after a couple of beers I assume, Ted called me up and said he really wanted to see me. He was drunk, I knew this wasn't for real. I usually don't get nervous around other people, especially not Ted, but we hadn't seen each other in literally ages, so yeah I was nervous about him dropping by at my house, or I'm sorry not dropping by at my house, he actually expected me to drop everything I was doing and drive to the bar and come see him and give him a ride home, since he was so drunk he couldn't even walk straight./p

"Sure" I had said, not knowing what else to say. It turned out that Ted had, had a terrible breakup with a girl named Victoria. He was hunched over crying and I imediatly knew that it was bad. I placed my hand on his shoulder. Beer bottles and upside down shot glasses and a shattered martini glass sat in front of him. "I'm so sorry for your loss" I said rubbing his back, "Girls can be such bitches can't they? Not that boys are much better" Ted stared up at me in a drunk stupor, "Hey" I said, "You're really drunk, let me take you over to my house we can talk about it there"

"I'm never speaking to her again" He slurred.

"Hey gimme your phone" I had said, "Victoria's number, let me delete it"

"Fine by me" He slurred, I scroll down and do not see the name Victoria, but I do find the name Vychtouriyah,/p

""This must be her" I said "Is that seriously how the girl spells her name?"

"Yeah" Ted said, "Really is" He slurred. "Wow" I said, "What is she from Narnia or something?" "She's from Russia. She's a Russian model in fact" Ted slurred. "C'mon" I said lifting his arm over my shoulder. "Let's go

As soon as we got home, guess what Ted went right for. Guess! That's right, he went straight to the liquor cabinent,

"I don't think so" I said, only to realize that I was pretty thirsty for a tequila on the rocks myself. Ted and I talked, kissed and had sex just like old times, only it didn't seem real since he was drunk and I was starting to get a little bit tipsy. Then out of nowhere came the proposal. A very drunk Ted kneeled down on the couch, with the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen

"Brooke will you marry me?" He asked. I then started crying, and I don't mean in that sappy way girls on movies cry when they are proposed to because they are so touched. I cried because I knew it wasn't for real and because I knew I was his rebound from fucking Vychtouriyah the Russian model. I didn't even give him a yes or no answer. I just ran off to the bathroom and sobbed like a little school girl. A couple days later, he proposed to me for real and I started crying once again (And yes I do mean the sappy TV kind of crying) and I actually said yes.

So now Ted and I are on our honeymoon in Mexico America. We are playing ping pong in the recreational room in the basement of the Hilton. We haven't even started playing, when I suddenly without any warning, slip and slide under the ping pong table.

"Brooke what happened?" Ted asks me, "Are you all right?" I am able to pick myself up "What happened?" Ted asks a second time, and it really annoys me because I am just as confused about it as he is.

"Clumsy moment" I lie.

"You okay?" He asks me again.

p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 6.0px 27.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;""Yeah" I say, "So should we keep score or no?"

"All right let's play, 1-40" "Great" I say. I suddenly realize that my hand feels kind of limp, tingly and also kind of inflated like a balloon. I look down at my hand, despite everything it looks normal, as in it has not ballooned three sizes larger, it does however look kind of dead. I try to grasp onto my ping pong racket, but my hands somehow won't cooperate with my brain. I am unable to grasp a hold of the ping pong racket. Chills run down my spine when I realize this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me. At our wedding it happened. I had a great deal of difficulty slipping my ring off of my finger and on to Ted's ring finger. I became so frustrated, I was reduced to tears. Not wanting anyone to see me cry at my wedding, I escaped to the little girls room. People would have probably figured out that my tears were not the happy kind of tears that are shown in the movies, but the frustrated kind of tears, they would probably all make the assumption that I was having some terrible second thoughts about getting married. I sobbed in the bathroom for what felt like hours, when I suddenly heard the door open.

"Brooke?" My maid of honor and best friend Whitney asked. "Ted sent me to come check on you. Are you all right sweetie?" I came out the stall with red eyes and puffy cheeks, "What's the matter girl?" Whitney asked.

"It's nothing" I lied, "My nail polish is just chipping and it looks really terrible" It was a really stupid lie especially considering the fact that I had only then realized that my sparkly white nail polish was starting to chip off and truth be told it didn't look that horrible"

"You're having second thoughts about your wedding aren't you?" Whitney asks handing me a tissue. "That's okay, it happens to a lot of us, It even happened to me, but then I found out that getting married was like the best thing that could have ever happened to me." I couldn't tell her what was really going on. I didn't want anyone not even my BFF worrying about me on my wedding day. Maybe it was just nerves, maybe that was why I was having so much trouble with the ring. But it couldn't have been that, I didn't feel nervous about anything. I came to my wedding feeling very confident, maybe even a little bit too confident. If I didn't have nerves then, I definitely have to say being unable to apply the ring did it for me. I was nervous all right but not in the same way a person is supposed to be nervous on the day of their wedding. Instead of being worried about married life and all that shit, I was worried that maybe there was something seriously wrong with me. Maybe I was dying.

"I slip out of my reverie for a short while. My entire body is racked with fear. My swank tight black dress suddenly feels a little too tight, like I am suffocating. To make matters worse it also feels like someone has thrown a bunch of itching powder or maybe a colony of red ants in it. Beads of sweat fall down my four head. The ping pong racket slips from my limp useless hand and falls to the floor. /span/p

"What's wrong Brooke? Brooke what's wrong?" Ted asks me.

I shake my head" "Nothing's wrong" I lie, "We're on our honeymoon, I'm having a great time, I'm happy" As I say this I realize that my veins have become solid ice.

""You're shaking" Ted observes. "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine" I lie again. "You know what? I'm getting a little bored with ping pong."

"Tired of Ping Pong?" He asks, "What are you talking about? We just started playing. What's wrong Brooke?" /span/p

"What's wrong Brooke, what's wrong? What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG? He's probably going to continue asking me that question until it starts to lose meaning, As a matter a fact I think it already has lost meaning.

"I'm just not into ping pong" I lie, "I mean it's just not fun when it's not beer pong"

"We could get some beer to play with" Ted suggests. "There's a bar just over there, you don't look so good" He says. Now it feels like my heart has stopped. My stomach feels like it has tied its self in knots. I feel like I'm literally going to throw up.

"Are you all right?" he asks me. "Not really, no" I admit

"What's wrong?" He asks for about the 50 billionth time that day

"I feel sick" I say and just leave it at that.

"Should we go back to the hotel room?" He asks.

"Sure" I say "I'd like that" My legs feel as if they are made out of a combination of play-dough and jello. I once again fall. Ted lifts me up from the ground. My legs won't cooperate with my brain and I keep falling down.

"What's wrong?" He asks again, that has got to be a record. "Why do you keep falling? Are you okay?" My husband is really starting to sound like a broken record now with all his questioning. "Are you drunk?" He asks me. Truth of the matter is, I am not drunk, I haven't had anything to drink except a couple of cocktails at dinner and that was at 6:00, it is now 12:00.

"Yeah" I lie. "I'm very drunk."

"You are?" Ted asks, "No you're not, you had two cocktails, we both did." Tears start rolling down my cheeks. "Oh my god!" Ted says, like he knows exactly what is going on. "Somebody roofied your drink didn't they. Oh my god! Brooke!" He begins checking my pupils to check for signs of dilation. He then scoops me up in his arms and carries me back to the hotel room like how a person would carry a sack of potatoes. I have been roofied before, and this is nothing like it. Besides if I had my drink roofied, wouldn't it have taken affect right away? Those things are known to take affect at once. Besides, if someone was trying to date rape me, he would have taken off with me, he wouldn't have handed me back to my husband. I do however feel drunk, or at least buzzed, I guess the best way I can put it is that my brain is feeling foggy. When Ted carries me to our room, a strange wave of vertigo sweeps over me. It is a combination of the vertigo and just all the scared feelings in my stomach that causes me to vomit the Zarzuela I had ordered for dinner at the Spanish (Not Mexican, but Spanish restaurant) all over Ted's expensive new shoes, that his friend Scoonie had bought him as a wedding present and a little bit on my new slick black dress, from my friend Candy who I do modeling with, who is also my boss, but we get along really well, when we are not doing modeling stuff. Ted makes a face but shrugs it off. "You all right?" He asks me again. I have never heard Ted be more repetitive than he's being tonight. I burst into fresh tears.

"Damn it Ted" I sob, "I'm so sorry" "It's all right" He says, then strokes his fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry I had to ruin this for you. We're only one day into our honeymoon and already it's a disaster" "Hey don't worry about it" He says. "Things will be better tomorrow" He kisses me on the top of the head. We take the elevator up to the 2/spanspan style="font: 8.0px 'Times New Roman'; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"supnd/sup/spanspan style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" floor of the building, the see through elevator to be more specific, it takes my vertigo up another notch causing me to vomit once again. The rest of the Seafood stew, the two cocktails and a couple of Andes mints make a second appearance on Ted's really nice tuxedo.

"You okay Mrs. Lady?" A Mexican boy, who appears to be no older than 6 asks. "Has she been drinking?" He asks Ted. I suppose he is not too young to understand the whole drunk thing. The man who I assume is his father gives him a slap on the back of his head "Dam nit El Burro. You know better than to go asking people questions like that" His father snaps. Seriously that's the kids name, translates to the donkey, which transfers to Jackass, which transfers to asshole which he kind of is. No wonder the kid acts out, but to be fair he wouldn't have any clue that I'm not drunk and that I really wish I was because then I'd actually be able to put a name behind what is happening to me. I shut my eyes because, looking through the elevator glass increases my vertigo a whole other notch, only to find that it has gone and made things even worse. I let out a single sob. "She's wasted all right" The father of El Burro says.

"Don't worry" Ted says, stroking my hair once again. "We're almost to the hotel room" I have no idea why, but that elevator ride felt like it took forever. I suddenly realize what a terrible migraine I have, or maybe it is that I just suddenly developed a migraine. Either way, Ted carrying me to our room and just the echoing sound of him running down the hall with his especially loud shoes screaming the words "Help" and "Ayudar" (Which is a particular ugly word in my mind) Is just making it even worse. "Don't worry" He says, "We'll get help" That's just about the last thing I want, I don't want to ruin our honeymoon and more importantly, I really don't want to find out what is wrong with me. No one answers

Ted's annoying screams, either everyone is asleep since it is probably now 2:00 in the morning, or maybe no one cares, or maybe no one else is staying on the floor of the Hilton. Probably everyone who has gone to Mexico has rented other more authentic Mexican resorts. Someone actually does open the door and tells Ted to shut the fuck up. He then sees me "Passed out drunk huh?" He asks. Is he ever wrong? I am neither drunk or passed out. "Just give her a cold shower and she'll wake up" He says.

"It's not what it looks like" Ted says. "I think she might be very sick" "Okay fine" The guy said. "She's sick, I'm sure it can wait till tomorrow, she probably just has a case of food poisoning or something, she'll be okay"

"What gives you the idea she has food poisoning?" Ted asks, "Exactly what did I say to lead you to believe that?" "Who cares" The guy says, "But obviously it's all over your tux, your shoes and her dress" If by food poisoning he means Botulism, then maybe he's right. One of the Beta girls suffered from a case of Botulism and pretty much all of us "Greeks" found out about it. I'm not sure what they did about her Botulism, as a matter a fact I'm not sure what ever happened to that girl, but I kind of wish I did, because if I really do have Botulism, it would be nice to know what's going to happen to me and if I'm going to be okay or not. Maybe I shouldn't have ordered that horrible seafood stew, maybe all the shellfish and the entire lobster weren't cooked all the way. I realize at once that, that is most definitely not the case. I have been having problems since our wedding a week ago, with the whole ring incident and what not. "Do you really think she has food poisoning?" Ted asks.

"Don't know" The guy says sounding more and more irritated by the second. "But can it please wait till tomorrow, my kids, wife and I have to get up early tomorrow morning, I promised them I'd show them the baby sea turtles. So please let me go to sleep and we'll discuss this tomorrow" "Fuck you!" Ted shouts giving him the middle finger. "Fuck everyone!" He shouts, more and more people open their doors, but Ted opens our door and slams it behind him, he then gently unzips my vomit stained black dress, and begins undressing me like I am 0 years old.

"You'll feel better tomorrow" He tells me and I hope as hell he's right.

"As it turns out I do not feel better, as a matter a fact I might feel worse. I don't remember falling asleep, if I did at all, and if I had I don't remember dreaming anything, but I suppose I must have fallen asleep, but I definitely feel much worse. I woke up with my right arm attached (glued as a matter a fact) to my side soldier style, I am unable to move it because it feels heavy and when I try to move it, it snaps back with some kind of weird magnetic force. To make things worse, that is the arm that is dominant. Chills rush down my spine as I make a clumsy attempt to sit up. From the corner of my eye I see that Ted is already up and dressed.

"No time to lay in bed all day" He says pulling off the covers. "We've got a big day ahead of us, we've got sight seeing, beach combing, snorkeling, making out in the waves" My stomach literally bounces. I am pretty much unable to do any of those things

"I don't think so" I say.

"What's wrong?" Ted asks, his favorite question once again. I almost tell him that I can't move my right arm, but my mouth feels like it's full of Adams brand natural peanut butter. I'm not sure if those two problems are related, or if I am just nervous as fuck. "Don't you feel well?" He asks "Don't you feel better from yesterday?" "I'm just tired" I lie. "Of course you are" Ted says, "You just woke up." He is unbelievably inconsiderate. "

"Can we just take it easy today?" I ask, I feel my voice break like I am going to start crying again. "We can do all that fun stuff tomorrow, I promise"

"All right" Ted says. He doesn't sound super enthusiastic, but I can't say I blame him one little bit. I'm sure hanging out in the hotel room all day is the last thing he wants to do on his honeymoon our honeymoon that is.

"I'm sorry this is such a horrible honeymoon" I say.

"It's okay Brooke" He says irritably, I can tell from the look on his face that he is fucking disappointed, that his dream honeymoon didn't turn out the way he wanted it to.

"You can do that stuff by yourself" I say.

"Damnit Brooke" He snaps throwing back his head, "This is a honeymoon, we're supposed to do stuff together, look if you want to stay in the hotel room all day then fine. We'll just stay in the hotel room all day and do nothing, just like everyone else does on their honeymoon" I can't believe Ted can be so inconsiderately insensitive

"Stop yelling at me." I cry "I'm really not feeling well" I say.

"I know, I'm sorry" Ted says. "Would you like to cut the Honeymoon a day short?" He asks. I am worried that next he will say something like, "Do you not want to be married to me?" Thankfully he doesn't. "How do you not feel well?" He asks me. This is my chance to explain, but I don't because the last thing I want is for this honeymoon to become a medical emergency. "I just don't" I say. "Do you want to order room service then?" He asks."Sure" I say apathetically. "Room service it is"