My eyes flutter open, exposing me to the glowing lamplight of my bedroom.
I sit up slowly, putting a hand to my forehead to quiet the pounding in my
head. My mouth feels dry, further testament to the large amounts of
alcohol I must've consumed last night. Oh, God. I feel like such a
complete moron. How much did I drink? God, how could I have been so
irresponsible and stupid? What did I do? Maybe that red wine punch wasn't
such a good idea after all...
I fall back on my pillows with a thump. I'm still wearing the red mini-
dress I had on last night, although my silly Santa hat seems to have
disappeared. This seems like a twisted dream. I didn't mean to get drunk.
I must have gotten drunk. That's the only explanation for this... God,
I'm ashamed with myself right now. I never, ever thought I'd get this
drunk... I never really thought I'd get drunk in the first place. My head
refuses to stop throbbing. I shut my eyes again, moaning with hung-over
hurting as I pull a pillow over my head in despondency. Oh, God. How
could I have let myself get so drunk? I swear, that punch must have been
about 2 percent actual punch and 98 percent wine...
I try to grasp for what happened last night. Frankie gave me a jukebox, I
remember that. A nice blue jukebox. And then I hung out with Eddie for a
little while, and then I danced. And Eddie left. No, I thought Eddie left.
That must have been when I started drinking... (Oh. My. God.) No, but
there was more. Okay, let's see. I danced some more... and then I made
out with Frankie. That's when I saw Eddie again, when I realized he hadn't
left. And then... nothing. That must've been when I passed out... I feel
so, so idiotic. I wonder if anyone saw, if they got to watch me be such a
complete imbecile. Probably. It would figure. Oh, God. I just want to
curl up and die of embarrassment. I can't believe I got so utterly
wasted... And the way I treated Eddie. That in itself makes me really
mortified about now. I shouldn't have been so flirty with Frank. But I
was. Oh, God, I feel horrible. I feel like such an absolutely awful
person. Last night I had no regard for anybody's feelings at all.
Groaning, I force my eyelids open again, removing the pillow from my head
and wincing as the brightness of the lamp hits my eyes. Much as I want to,
I can't hide in here forever. Take it one step at a time. The guests must
be gone by now. And besides Frankie and Eddie, they were the only ones
that saw. Most of them don't even know my name; they just know me as
Frank's girlfriend, his groupie. It's fine, it'll be fine... fine, fine,
fine. I try to tell myself that as I remove my dress to change into
something else. Anything else. Anything that doesn't remind me of last
night...
I hear a knock on my door, followed by the sound of it opening and someone
beginning to enter. Shrieking, I grab madly for anything I can find to
cover myself, prevent myself from greeting visitors in my skimpy black lace
bra and panties. "Don't come in!" I screech, scrambling for my bathrobe.
Once I've cinched the sash, I turn to the door, breathing shallowly from my
efforts.
"Are ya decent yet?" a male voice asks.
"Of course," I say, doing my best impression of a relaxed person, an
impression that fails miserably when the door opens and in steps Eddie. I
throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face
in his shoulder and causing him to drop the box he's holding. With some
confusion, he returns the hug fondly, I guess in part surprised by my
unnatural display of raw affection. He removes his arms from around me and
instead puts his hands on my shoulders, looking at me at arms' length. He
fixes his gaze on me, searching my face, telling me that he knows something
is wrong. I stare at him with an expression of wide-eyed amorously charged
agony and my eyes fill with tears.
"I feel so awful!" I howl, throwing my barely-dressed self at my bed and
hiding my face in my pillow. "My head is throbbing. My mouth is dry. And
I can't believe I was so careless! Oh, God!" Everything that's been
running through my head escapes from my lips before I can stop myself. I
feel Eddie's hands rubbing my back, soothing me as I babble and bawl. I
roll over so I can see him. "I don't deserve you," I tell him, tears
spilling from my eyes and dripping onto my breasts, which are now being
showcased in their black lace-covered glory since my bathrobe has come
undone as result of my despondent outburst. I don't even care anymore.
Eddie pulls me closer to him, hugging me and letting me weep into his
chest. My shoulders convulse with sobs. "Oh, Columbia," he whispers.
"Don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes. I know I've made plenty. It's
fine."
Lifting my head, I start crying all over again. His honesty is almost
frightening; how he's willing to admit his wrongs so easily. "I... I'm
really, really sorry," I tell him truthfully, my voice quavering.
"It's all right," he replies calmingly. "It'll be all right." He kisses my
hair and wipes the tears from my eyes, comforting me in a way I never
thought he had in him. Delicately, I rest my head on his chest and feel
the steady rhythm of his breathing as he strokes my artificially pink
tresses tenderly, telling me over and over and over again that it's gonna
be fine. He lulls me into believing it really is gonna be fine, believing
I'm not an awful person, believing that it's okay to mess up cause everyone
does sometimes. It's gonna be fine it's gonna be fine it's gonna be fine.
He rises from my bed, going over to the door and picking up the box he
dropped earlier. I look at him curiously and he holds the box out to me.
It's square, wrapped in red paper with Disney characters trimming Christmas
trees, a cute choice that makes me smile. "For me?" I ask.
"For you," he confirms with a grin. I take the box, gently unwrapping it
and setting the paper aside to keep. It's a shoebox. I remove the box's
lid and take out a pair of tap shoes, the nicest tap shoes I've ever seen.
They're blue, with sparkles, and they have a little heel and a strap, not
the lace-up kind, but the kind that always makes you think of childhood
dance recitals. Mary-Janes. "Oh, wow!" I exclaim. "I don't know what to
say! Oh, my gosh. Thank you!"
I wrap my arms around him in a bear hug to emphasize my thanks. Unlike
Frank, he lets me hug him innocently, not needing to turn it into anything
else. He just lets me hug him and he hugs me and there we are with our
arms around each other just... hugging. I feel safe and warm in his arms,
like nothing bad can happen anymore. Things have been weird this past
night, but it doesn't feel weird anymore. It just feels nice.
I sit up slowly, putting a hand to my forehead to quiet the pounding in my
head. My mouth feels dry, further testament to the large amounts of
alcohol I must've consumed last night. Oh, God. I feel like such a
complete moron. How much did I drink? God, how could I have been so
irresponsible and stupid? What did I do? Maybe that red wine punch wasn't
such a good idea after all...
I fall back on my pillows with a thump. I'm still wearing the red mini-
dress I had on last night, although my silly Santa hat seems to have
disappeared. This seems like a twisted dream. I didn't mean to get drunk.
I must have gotten drunk. That's the only explanation for this... God,
I'm ashamed with myself right now. I never, ever thought I'd get this
drunk... I never really thought I'd get drunk in the first place. My head
refuses to stop throbbing. I shut my eyes again, moaning with hung-over
hurting as I pull a pillow over my head in despondency. Oh, God. How
could I have let myself get so drunk? I swear, that punch must have been
about 2 percent actual punch and 98 percent wine...
I try to grasp for what happened last night. Frankie gave me a jukebox, I
remember that. A nice blue jukebox. And then I hung out with Eddie for a
little while, and then I danced. And Eddie left. No, I thought Eddie left.
That must have been when I started drinking... (Oh. My. God.) No, but
there was more. Okay, let's see. I danced some more... and then I made
out with Frankie. That's when I saw Eddie again, when I realized he hadn't
left. And then... nothing. That must've been when I passed out... I feel
so, so idiotic. I wonder if anyone saw, if they got to watch me be such a
complete imbecile. Probably. It would figure. Oh, God. I just want to
curl up and die of embarrassment. I can't believe I got so utterly
wasted... And the way I treated Eddie. That in itself makes me really
mortified about now. I shouldn't have been so flirty with Frank. But I
was. Oh, God, I feel horrible. I feel like such an absolutely awful
person. Last night I had no regard for anybody's feelings at all.
Groaning, I force my eyelids open again, removing the pillow from my head
and wincing as the brightness of the lamp hits my eyes. Much as I want to,
I can't hide in here forever. Take it one step at a time. The guests must
be gone by now. And besides Frankie and Eddie, they were the only ones
that saw. Most of them don't even know my name; they just know me as
Frank's girlfriend, his groupie. It's fine, it'll be fine... fine, fine,
fine. I try to tell myself that as I remove my dress to change into
something else. Anything else. Anything that doesn't remind me of last
night...
I hear a knock on my door, followed by the sound of it opening and someone
beginning to enter. Shrieking, I grab madly for anything I can find to
cover myself, prevent myself from greeting visitors in my skimpy black lace
bra and panties. "Don't come in!" I screech, scrambling for my bathrobe.
Once I've cinched the sash, I turn to the door, breathing shallowly from my
efforts.
"Are ya decent yet?" a male voice asks.
"Of course," I say, doing my best impression of a relaxed person, an
impression that fails miserably when the door opens and in steps Eddie. I
throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face
in his shoulder and causing him to drop the box he's holding. With some
confusion, he returns the hug fondly, I guess in part surprised by my
unnatural display of raw affection. He removes his arms from around me and
instead puts his hands on my shoulders, looking at me at arms' length. He
fixes his gaze on me, searching my face, telling me that he knows something
is wrong. I stare at him with an expression of wide-eyed amorously charged
agony and my eyes fill with tears.
"I feel so awful!" I howl, throwing my barely-dressed self at my bed and
hiding my face in my pillow. "My head is throbbing. My mouth is dry. And
I can't believe I was so careless! Oh, God!" Everything that's been
running through my head escapes from my lips before I can stop myself. I
feel Eddie's hands rubbing my back, soothing me as I babble and bawl. I
roll over so I can see him. "I don't deserve you," I tell him, tears
spilling from my eyes and dripping onto my breasts, which are now being
showcased in their black lace-covered glory since my bathrobe has come
undone as result of my despondent outburst. I don't even care anymore.
Eddie pulls me closer to him, hugging me and letting me weep into his
chest. My shoulders convulse with sobs. "Oh, Columbia," he whispers.
"Don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes. I know I've made plenty. It's
fine."
Lifting my head, I start crying all over again. His honesty is almost
frightening; how he's willing to admit his wrongs so easily. "I... I'm
really, really sorry," I tell him truthfully, my voice quavering.
"It's all right," he replies calmingly. "It'll be all right." He kisses my
hair and wipes the tears from my eyes, comforting me in a way I never
thought he had in him. Delicately, I rest my head on his chest and feel
the steady rhythm of his breathing as he strokes my artificially pink
tresses tenderly, telling me over and over and over again that it's gonna
be fine. He lulls me into believing it really is gonna be fine, believing
I'm not an awful person, believing that it's okay to mess up cause everyone
does sometimes. It's gonna be fine it's gonna be fine it's gonna be fine.
He rises from my bed, going over to the door and picking up the box he
dropped earlier. I look at him curiously and he holds the box out to me.
It's square, wrapped in red paper with Disney characters trimming Christmas
trees, a cute choice that makes me smile. "For me?" I ask.
"For you," he confirms with a grin. I take the box, gently unwrapping it
and setting the paper aside to keep. It's a shoebox. I remove the box's
lid and take out a pair of tap shoes, the nicest tap shoes I've ever seen.
They're blue, with sparkles, and they have a little heel and a strap, not
the lace-up kind, but the kind that always makes you think of childhood
dance recitals. Mary-Janes. "Oh, wow!" I exclaim. "I don't know what to
say! Oh, my gosh. Thank you!"
I wrap my arms around him in a bear hug to emphasize my thanks. Unlike
Frank, he lets me hug him innocently, not needing to turn it into anything
else. He just lets me hug him and he hugs me and there we are with our
arms around each other just... hugging. I feel safe and warm in his arms,
like nothing bad can happen anymore. Things have been weird this past
night, but it doesn't feel weird anymore. It just feels nice.