Contemplate his failure

Back in my room, I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Never in my life have I experienced a day with such highs and lows. That 'Writ of Free Use' was the greatest thing ever, but then...my own body betrayed me, in front that hot girl...and all those other people. At least they were strangers. None of my friends or enemies are going to know about it, as long as there's no video on social media... Shit!

At that thought, I jump on my phone and scroll through my accounts, trying to see if there's any mention of the incident. So far, nothing... That makes me feel a little better, but I'm still not in the clear.

I return to my contemplation. I just have to learn how to pace myself better. And at least I still have the card, so I should have plenty of opportunities to practice. Next time, though, I should get the girl in private first.

Some of my earlier confidence regained, I flip open my wallet to look at the card again, and... My blood goes cold.

The card isn't there.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I have no memory of putting the writ back after showing it to that girl, Lilah. But what the fuck did I do with it then? I look through every pocket of my pants. I look inside my shoes. I take my shirt off and shake it out. Nothing. I start tearing apart my room, checking all the obvious hiding spots, but deep in my heart...the truth I refuse to acknowledge is beginning to surface. I lost the card, somewhere outside, either during the confrontation with Lilah or on the way home.

Okay, now this really is officially the worst day of my life. I fall back down on my bed, practically catatonic, feeling like the greatest loser in the world.

It's in this state that Mom finds me an hour or so later when she knocks on my door. "Jake, sweetie, dinner time. I made your favorite!"

I mutter an acknowledgement before pushing myself up and shuffling like a zombie into the kitchen.

"You look terrible," says Mom concernedly, a little while later as we face each other across the table over a plate of homemade pizza. "And you've barely touched your slice. What happened?"

"I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe a fever? I...I need to lay down."

"Okay, honey," she says as I walk back towards my bedroom. "Try to get some sleep. I'll check in on you soon."

"Thanks. Love you."

I return to my bed, to my near stupor. I barely notice a few minutes later when the front doorbell rings, when my mom answers it, when she engages in an intense exchange with the visitor. What I can't ignore, however, is what happens next--her voice yelling at me through the door, oddly strained. "Jake! I know you're feeling bad, but you need to come out. This is important!"