It was almost a week after the fun yet awkward night at the Life Café, and Mark and I were getting along as well as always, on formal terms. That morning, I woke up and blinked at the calendar across the room. "December 31st." I mumbled to myself, "New Year's Eve." I saved a quick smile for myself as I pulled on a colorful and festive outfit. When I walked out, Mark and Roger were standing there, laughing and drinking coffee. I came up in between them, with my own mug of coffee, and said,
"Happy New Year's Eve, boys." I threw my arms over their shoulders, and they grinned and returned the favor.
"Well, well, well... any anniversaries to celebrate in this gap between 1989 and 1990?" Mark asked, holding his camera up to my face.
"Yeah. The anniversary of 1990." I shoved the camera out of my face. I was too tired, it was too early, and I looked like shit. "Now eff off. I need my coffee. Then I need to brush my hair and put on makeup so I look halfway decent." I downed my coffee and slammed the mug on the table. Roger gave Mark a look when he thought I wasn't looking, and Mark took a deep breath.
"Hey, uhh, Kiley. We... I... was wondering if you wanted to go to Times Square with us for New Year's, but if you're too tired..." Mark asked awkwardly, and I smirked at him.
"Well of course I wanna go!" I hopped off my stool and kissed him on the cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be preparing for my day." I walked into our room, laughing, because all I could imagine at that moment was Mark's face and Roger snickering behind his hand.
***
"Three... two... one!" everyone in Times Square shouted as the ball dropped, and me, not being big on holidays, threw my arms around Mark, who was laughing and recording the moment for his documentary.
"Hey, Kiley!" he shouted, pointing the camera in my face. "What's your New Year's resolution?" I tapped my chin with one finger theatrically, then relinquished my hold on him and skipped ahead.
"Get a boyfriend!" I laughed, then thought of something. "And you might wanna get a girlfriend, Cohen!" I playfully punched him in the arm, and he shook his head.
"Well then... alright, consider that my New Year's resolution!" he laughed, and put his free arm around me. "Hey, hey Mimi, Roger! What're your New Year's resolutions?"
Mimi smiled, clutching onto Roger's arm. "I'm giving up my vices and going back to school." Roger seemed elated by the news and then Mark rounded on him.
"Write a song." he said simply, and I started snickering.
"Yeah, maybe this year?" He glared at me, and I started laughing harder. They walked away, and Tom and Angel came up to us in ridiculous costumes. "And who're you two supposed to be?"
Tom took a puff from his joint and said in a desperate attempt at a British accent, "Bond, James Bond."
Angel, flipping her blonde wig, smiled and said, "And Pussy Galore... in person!" Mark laughed as I kissed him on the cheek again and went off with Tom and Angel.
"Hey baby!" I heard Maureen yell, but I tuned them out when Tom handed me my own joint.
"Why thank you, Mr. Bond." I laughed, and puffed some. By about three o'clock, I was tripping over my own feet, even the air, and I couldn't stop laughing for the life of me. Tom was hanging onto Angel's shoulder and laughing just as hard as I was. "Hey, hey Tom." I said after a while, the giggles still in my voice. "Let's go on the roof and sing Christmas carols!" I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the nearest fire escape, Angel clucking like a mother hen behind us.
"Come on, baby, you're high!" she called after us, and I just kept laughing and climbing up the rusty fire escape. When we got up there, we gave one look at each other, then started squaredancing and singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
"Dude, c'mhere. Listen to this." Tom stood at the edge of the rooftop, and screamed, "I LOVE ANGEL DUMOTT SCHUNARD!" He grinned at me. "Your turn, lil' cous."
That pet name, the one the guys had given to me when we were fresh out of grammar school, rang in my ears as the only voice I could think of in my high: Mark's. "I got it." I grinned maliciously, and climbed up on the edge of the rooftop. "I LOVE YOU, MARK COHEN!" And then BAM. It hit me, what I had just said, ringing back into my ears along with Tom's shocked, "Dammn..." I climbed down off the edge, gave an awkward smile to Tom, and rushed off the ladder, avoiding everyone's gaze. I headed to the one place I remembered, no matter how stoned I was: the apartment.
I sat down on the cold metal floor and rested my head against the large pole in the middle of the room. It felt good, and I jumped when I heard the door slam open and unfamiliar voices rush in. "Wahh?" I murmured in my daze, and stood up to see Benny ushering in shady-looking movers with a stony look on his face. "You bastard!" I shouted, and he turned around and smiled.
"Kiley... so glad to see you again..." he said through clenched teeth, and I scowled at him.
"What are you doing? Why are you taking our stuff?" I tried grabbing stuff back from the movers, but it only fell through weakened fingers. "No! Leave the blankets!" I said meekly, and the mover hastily shoved the blankets in my hands. I wrapped the biggest one around me and turned back to Benny. "Well?"
"Your cousin and his friend wouldn't pay the rent... are you okay?" He sounded concerned when he asked me that, and when he reached toward me, I backed up.
"You... and your little friends from Cyberland or whatever it's called... get the hell out of our apartment! So we can't effing afford your damn RENT, just leave us alone!" I muttered with as much force as I could muster, and Benny sighed and shook his head.
"Well, boys, I think that's about it. I'll be seeing you, Kiley." He made an attempt to hug me, but my stoned - not stony - glare must have driven him off, because he waved a bit and left, taking our furniture with him. I couldn't help it after that: I sat on the floor and cried until the sun came up. When it did, I was out like a light. Until...
"Hey, man, where's our stuff?" I heard Roger's voice say, and I bolted up.
"Roger! Mark!" I yelled, and ran into Mark's open arms. He looked confused, and Roger asked,
"Kiley... where'd our stuff go?" I took a deep breath and said as fast as my lack of energy would let me:
"Benny and his little friends from CyberArts came here and took all our shit because we couldn't pay rent! I tried to stop him, really, I did, but they only left the blankets, Rog!" I was breathing quickly now, and Mark started rubbing my head. It felt good, and Tom started to giggle.
"Ahah, Benny prolly knew you were stoned..." he laughed louder, head lolling on his chest. Mark stopped stroking my head for a second and lifted my chin, checking my eyes.
"Damn it, Kiley. You are!" I guess my eyes were bloodshot, because he held onto me tighter, and he was probably glaring at Tom for me, because Tom just kept laughing.
"Man... didn't you hear her? I think the entire Alphabet City heard her scream!" he cackled, and I felt all eyes on me as I pulled my head off Mark's chest, my face hot and a grin plastered on my face.
"Yeah... about that... heh." I backed up slowly, trying not to laugh to hard, when I tripped over Tom's outstretched feet.
"AHA! You fell over!" he slurred, and I scowled at him. "And anyway, I'm sure Mr. Happy-Camera didn't hear what you said, girl."
My tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth as I sat with my back against the wall, across from Tom, who was sitting where I fell asleep. "Look... let's just act like that never happened." I whispered, and the whisper came easier then talking normal volume. "If he doesn't know... then he doesn't need to know." Tom nodded and took another puff from his joint.
"So no more joint for the lil' cous!" he cackled, and the other six looked up from their conversation about money and Buzzline and rent to stare at us. Mimi raised an eyebrow in suspicion and then smiled.
"Hey, Mark. Did you hear someone scream 'I love you, Mark Cohen' last night, at around three?" Tom asked loudly, laying on the ground. Mark took one glance at me then nodded. "Yeah, boy, that was me! AHAHAHA!" Tom was overcome with glee at his little joke, and none of us could resist laughing at the sight of a large black man rolling on the floor of an empty apartment, giggling like a schoolgirl. I leaned my head back against the wall and shut my eyes, and before I knew it, I was asleep. Although I did feel someone pick me up, carry me somewhere, and re-adjust the blankets. But the one thing I remember clearly is someone kissing me on the forehead and stroking my cheek, and me smiling in my sleep.
And that, of course, was followed by giggles from the peanut gallery, but I prefer to forget those.
***
I woke up the next morning with a massive headache and rolled around so I could look next to me. Mark was curled up on the floor across from me, reading a book with his back against the wall. He saw my eyes were open and smiled.
"Morning, Miss Stoner." he laughed, and I scowled.
"Ha-ha." I growled, and stood up, stretching as far up as I could. "Jesus Christ... what the hell happened last night?" I asked, and I was quite sure I didn't sound like myself, because Mark came rushing over and held me steady. He sighed before explaining last night's events to me, and I nodded. "That would be pretty accurate." I said, plopping back down on my blankets and scaring Mark to death; he thought I was fainting. "AHAH! Are you okay, Marky?" He sat down next to me and I put my head on his shoulder. "Man... never again... what a way to start 1990, huh?"
Mark pulled a headband, or really, a streamer that I was using as a headband, off of my head that said HAPPY 1990 all over it, and I smiled meekly. "Wow." he said simply, and he got up to throw it out the window into the trash can below. "Man, you are a wreck. Are you sure you're okay? We have a Life Support meeting in two hours, wanna go make yourself look, err, dec-"
He was about to say 'decent' until I glanced momentarily at him, the meek smile still on my face. My eyes were probably still bloodshot, because he shook his head and said,
"Why don't you go make yourself look pretty. It'll do you some good." He helped me up and I hugged him as soon as I was on my feet. He hugged me back, and I let go of him and went into the bathroom.
"Ugh! Thank God they couldn't take the plumbing!" I shouted, and I heard laughs from the boys outside, accompanied by,
"Hey, Pot Head! Leave some hot water for me!" Tom, I laughed to myself, locked the bathroom door, and started the shower. The warm water felt really good, and when I got out and got a towel on, I wiped off the mirror and looked at the reflection, which was staring at me curiously.
My eyes were indeed bloodshot, and they were dark all around. There was a red spot on my cheek from where I had slept, and the spot on my head where Mark had kissed me last night was tingling, maybe just self-conciously? I laughed at myself again, and unlocked the door. Thank God I didn't have to walk through the main room, because then I could get through Roger's room straight to Mark's and mine without getting harrassed by the latter. I rooted through the hamper, grimacing, and even though the clothes weren't dirty, I sighed and pulled out my suitcase from the hole in the wall.
When I walked out in fresh clothes, Mark and Roger seemed a tad jealous. "Where'd you get the clean clothes, Kiley?" Roger asked, looking up at me from his seat on the ground.
"I left my suitcase in that little cubbyhole in the wall." I said blissfully, sitting in between Tom and Mark. Mark grabbed my hand and Tom started giggling.
"Hey, lil' cous! You just got over your wild night, huh?" he asked, punching me in the arm. I glared at him, then laughed and nodded. He seemed entertained by my response, and after a glance at his watch, he straightened up and looked at Angel. "Hey, girl, we gotta go."
"To the Life Support meeting?" Mark asked, and Tom shook his head.
"Nahh. Angel baby has a doctor's appointment. And since we both needed a, err, 'checkup,' I scheduled one, too. So tell Paul we're gonna be a bit late." Tom said quickly, tugging on Angel's hand. We waved goodbye to them, and that just left the three of us sitting on the floor, wondering the exact same thing:
How long do we have until they're gone?