Edward regrets being so cool with that when he wakes up the next morning—half on, half off the couch, upper body hanging so far off the cushions his face is pressed against the floor. His neck hurts, his head is pounding, his mouth is dry and tastes sour, and he really hopes the stain he sees when he opens his eyes used to be a form of food and not some kind of bodily fluid.
He blinks at the stain for several long seconds, trying to will away his headache. It takes a few of those seconds to notice his headache is pulsing with an insistent, annoying rhythm, and it's several more seconds after that until he figures out the high-pitched noise accompanying the rhythm is not actually in his head.
"Dude," Jake groans from somewhere to his left. "Answer your phone."
With a great effort, Edward pushes himself off the floor and sits up on the couch. He takes a moment to stare at Jake. He's folded and twisted into the chair, his head tipped back at what looks to be an extremely uncomfortable angle, mouth open and drooling. Edward wipes self-consciously at his own mouth and shakily gets up from the sofa, one hand going to his head when the movement makes his headache worse.
He's never drinking again.
Or at least, he's never out-drinking Jake again.
The phone is still ringing. By what has to be the twentieth ring, Edward is once again wishing he'd bought an answering machine—and it's his house phone so that means it can only be one person.
His mom.
He takes a deep, steadying breath and picks up the phone, praying he won't sound as hung over as he feels. "H'lo?" Yeah, that didn't work. He clears his throat and tries again. "Hello?"
There's a slight hesitation on the line then, "Edward?"
"Yeah, Mom. It's me."
"You sound horrible. You're not getting sick, are you?"
"Nah, just woke up is all."
"Oh."
Edward's stomach twists as the concern in her voice changes to a tone of slight disappointment.
"Edward, you realize it's past one in the afternoon?"
Edward clears his throat again, shifting guiltily, even though his mother can't see him. "Uh, no. I hadn't realized that."
"Were you out partying with Jake again?"
"Not…exactly partying. It was just Jake and me here at the apartment."
She sighs, and Edward's stomach drops even farther. He hates disappointing his mom.
"I see." She says nothing else for a moment, leaving Edward to wallow in guilt. She'd long since stopped giving him lectures on his choices in life, leaving her disapproval to be expressed instead with only long, weary sighs and sad looks, all of which somehow made Edward feel worse than any lecture ever could. "Well," she finally says, after the silence has stretched too long, "did you get the time off from the factory so you can come down here this Christmas?"
"Yeah," Edward breathes out, relieved he has something positive to say. "All four days."
"Good. And what about that girl you've been seeing? Irina? Was that her name?"
Edward hesitates, not sure what to say. Should he tell her they broke up?
"Edward?"
"Yeah, Mom. Her name's Irina." He pauses, still unable to bring up the fact they are no longer together.
"Very weird name," she mumbles, not for the first time. "Well, is she coming with you? We're all excited to meet her. It's been a long time since you've dated anyone long enough for us to meet them. Alice is especially thrilled," she teases, and he can imagine the smirk on her face. "She's been dying to get you back for how you treated Jasper when they got engaged. I think he had to stop her from actually writing out a list of questions for her to interrogate Irina with."
His mom gives a short laugh, and Edward feels his stomach clench. The idea that he's getting ready to let them all down again makes him feel physically ill.
"Edward?" she asks again, when he stays silent. "She's still coming, isn't she?"
Edward takes a shaky breath, preparing to tell her that no, she's actually out of the country and for all he knows she will remain so, but what comes out is, "Of course, Mom. We'll both be there on the 23rd." Afterward, he wants to smack himself, but he can't deny the way he automatically relaxes at his mother's happy, "Good."
"What time are you driving down, honey?"
"Um, uh," Edward stutters, too busy panicking and thinking what the hell did I just do to really focus on the question. "I don't know. Sometime in the morning, I think," he mutters distractedly.
Shit. Shit, shit and fuck.
He is a moron.
"So, really sometime in the evening then?" she asks, and if Edward wasn't freaking out, he'd roll his eyes at the familiar comment.
"I'm not always that late," is the expected protest.
"Uh-huh, sure. Just give me a call when you finally leave. I'll see you in two days. Love you."
"Yeah, love you too, Mom," he replies automatically, barely noticing the click and dial tone as his mother hangs up. Feeling numb, he slowly puts down the phone before collapsing back on the couch with a groan. He brings one arm up to cover his eyes, as if to block out the whole situation.
Two days.
He is expected back at his parents' house in two days. With his girlfriend.
"You're fucked, man," Jake pipes up from this spot on the easy chair.
Edward can't help but agree.