The warmth surrounding my body abruptly disappeared. Not a minute later, the door slammed shut. I groggily lifted my head and looked around the empty room. Then I glanced down to my fallen comforter. I placed the blame on too much tossing and turning and pulled it back onto the bed. My head was throbbing, I had no clue where my clothes were, and I would probably be late for work. Only one question was on my mind, and it probably wasn't going to get answered anytime soon.

"What the hell happened last night…?" I whispered to myself as I dramatically dragged my aching body out of bed and into a cold shower.

I tried playing back all that I could recall from last night. There was my argument with Mary before the party, which was almost a little too vivid. Other faint memories came to mind, like Kai and his posse, drinking with Cliff, and… Claire? I had to splash cold water on my face again. Had I really hung out with Claire last night? That didn't make sense; we barely even talked, let alone spent time at parties together. But at the same time, hazy glimpses of her flashed in my mind like a dream. Instead of the usual frustration that would arise when I thought about Claire, confusion and a killer headache took its place. Trying to make sense of my night only made my head pulse even worse.

I finally stepped out of the cold water and dried off. After dressing for work, I went back into the bedroom to grab my hat. It wasn't on my bedside where it usually lived, so I got to rummaging the pile of blankets and clothes that surrounded my bed. I wasn't sure why some of the materials felt so damp, but I was too occupied searching through the heaps of fabric to care. When I finally located the cap under a discarded black t-shirt, I snatched it off the floor and made my way downstairs for breakfast and, hopefully, answers.

The dining room was quiet, and dimly lit that morning. I scanned the empty space searching for anyone that might have any recollection of last night. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Cliff sitting across the room. Ann was standing beside the table, swooning over Cliff as usual. I hated to interrupt the love-fest, but it had to be done. I trudged over to the pair and ended up catching the end of their conversation.

"Y-yeah, I mean, we could hang out tomorrow night. If you can get off, of course," Cliff rambled on to Ann as I sat down. "J-just do what you can. It's okay if you can't, Ann, really." He noticed my presence and turned his head to greet me, "Morning, Gray. How do you feel?"

"Feels like I broke a couple of cinder blocks with my head, but other than that, just dandy," I said sarcastically. "What time is it?"

"It's a little past six-thirty. Don't worry; you've got time to eat," Cliff reassured me. I let out a sigh of relief. "You should probably drink some coffee too…"

I nodded, thankful that I would make it to work on time. My head was pounding, my muscles felt stiff, and I wasn't even sure that I could keep down breakfast, but hey, at least Gramps couldn't get on me about being late.

"Yeesh, you look rough," Ann stated, eyeing me up and down. She and Cliff quickly traded amused grins and then turned back to me with a chuckle.

"I just drank a little too much at Kai's," I said defensively. Ann broke out into a full belly-laugh, and I raised an eyebrow in response. "What?"

"Do you not know how to handle your booze?" Ann asked jokingly. Cliff and I exchanged puzzled looks. The question sounded eerily like something Karen would say.

"Oh, and you do?" I questioned the redhead, "I never even see you drink."

"You act like Dad doesn't own the bar that you and everybody else in town get drunk at every night," Ann said, sticking out her tongue. "How else do you think I manage to serve you, Karen, and Duke every night without losing my mind?"

"I guess I don't blame you," I replied with a sigh. I wasn't sure if she was joking about drinking on the job, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I had thought about doing the same thing to deal with Gramps.

"Plus!" Ann continued, much to my displeasure, "I was at Kai's too, and I'm not nearly as hungover as you are!" She had conveniently left out the part where she arrived at least a few hours and a bottle of whiskey after me, but I didn't have it in me to remind her. I didn't even want to think about the amount of liquor I'd consumed.

"Mmhmm, okay, well, now that that's sorted out: breakfast," I said flatly. It was too early to get in an argument with Ann. Her brain was clearly functioning better than mine that morning.

"Gee, Gray. You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl," Ann huffed, blowing wisps of red hair from her forehead. She dramatically placed her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes, "The usual?"

"Yeah, and coffee, please," I replied as I rubbed my temples. "Black." The pain in my head hadn't subsided, and while I probably just needed water, caffeine sounded much more appealing.

Ann nodded and hurried back to the kitchen, her long braid thrashing behind. She stopped just short of the kitchen door. "Oh, and Cliff," Ann said sweetly as she spun around, "I'll see what I can do about tomorrow." They both smiled as she disappeared through the swinging doors.

I turned to my awestruck roommate, his blushing face still fixated in the direction of the kitchen door. "So, I take it that things are better?" I asked.

He slowly turned back to me and relaxed in his seat. "I think so. We, uh, hung out at Kai's last night and talked. Turns out she, um, wasn't avoiding me or anything… it was just a big misunderstanding," Cliff said with a nervous laugh. He looked down at his hands as they anxiously traced the wood grains on the table. "I… think I'm going to ask her to the Fireworks Festival, so I can't mess it up."

"Why? Are you gonna make her your girlfriend ?" I teased Cliff.

He just looked down and silently sipped his water, but his lack of response said enough to me.

"Oh, shit…are you actually?" I asked in a low voice, reaching for my hat.

"Well… maybe," Cliff said softly. "Do you think it's… stupid?"

"O-oh, no. Of course not, sounds…cool." Cliff didn't seem too reassured by my answer but nodded anyway.

"So, um, do you remember much of last night?" Cliff changed the subject after shifting nervously in his seat for a few moments.

"I remember the beginning…" I started. My head pounded as I thought back to the blurry memories I did have. "Did I really drink that much?"

"You and that whiskey were going at it," Cliff answered, tapping his fingers along his glass of water. He paused for a second, then spoke again. "So, you really don't remember last night?"

"The last thing I remember clearly was talking to Kai and those girls," I said as I closed my eyes, trying to conjure up any coherent memories. "Did I dream talking to Claire last night, or did that happen in real life?"

Cliff's expression changed when I mentioned the blonde's name. His eyes widened, and his mouth tightened into a straight line, but I couldn't decipher what the look meant.

"Yeah… you did," Cliff said. His voice sounded uneasy, as if he were nervous about what would come next. His increasingly fidgety behavior didn't help his case either.

"What's with you, man?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at Cliff. "Why are you being so weird?"

"You honestly don't remember what happened last night?" Cliff asked for what felt like the billionth time. "You don't even remember talking to Claire?"

"Barely!" I exclaimed in frustration, throwing my head in my hands. After a deep breath, I spoke again, "Pretty sure I blacked out around then. That's why I'm waiting for you to tell me. I made it home, so nothing too bad could have happened." I looked up from my hands to meet Cliff's watchful gaze, "Right?"

"Well…" The brunette man in front of me began shakily, "First, you went off and sat with Claire for some strange reason because I could have sworn you hated her—"

"I don't hate her," I interrupted.

Cliff raised an eyebrow at me. "Um, alright. So you went and hung out with her," he started again, "which seemed weird, 'cause I thought you disliked her." He shot me a look and continued, "You were both… uh, pretty drunk. So Ann and I stuck around to keep an eye on you two."

Cliff paused and looked at me, and I signaled for him to continue with a nod. "An hour or two later, you came up to me with Claire and told me you were going to walk her home. You gave me a speech about how you were 'such a good guy' and everything."

"So, that's it?" I asked, relieved. All I had done was walk Claire home? That was just a drunk good deed; Cliff had given me the impression something catastrophic had happened.

Cliff shook his head slowly, his mouth pressed into a tight line. His hesitancy was starting to piss me off. Why was he so insistent on beating around the bush?

"Then what else happened? Get after it, then," I growled in response.

He took a deep breath and looked straight at me. "I… uh, don't think Claire made it home last night…" Cliff said carefully, not taking his brown eyes off mine.

"Wait. What?" I asked as a rush of guilt flooded my chest. "Seriously? Shit. Is she okay?"

Why did drunk me, no, absolutely shitfaced me, think it was a good idea to make me responsible for someone else? I put my palm up to my face. So much for a drunk good deed.

"You would know better than I would," Cliff said quietly, interrupting my pity party.

"Huh?" I mouthed, sitting up straight in my chair. "What do you mean?"

"She was with you," Cliff asserted, putting more emphasis on the word 'you.'

"I get that, but what happened if she didn't make it home?" I asked since Cliff wasn't making any fucking sense.

Cliff exhaled loudly and closed his eyes as if to stop them from rolling into the back of his head. "You are so dense sometimes…"

"Alright, I know I fucked up, but I'm just asking a question!" I all but yelled, feeling the anger flare up in my chest.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Cliff grumbled as he shook his head.

"I don't. So fucking tell me, Cliff," I commanded, gripping the edge of the table in frustration.

Cliff wrung his hands under the table, thinking about his response. He finally looked up at me with the world's most indecipherable expression. "Claire didn't make it home last night because she was with you," he said, pausing for emphasis, "here." He grabbed his water and took a very long sip, his eyes locked on me the entire time.

I processed my roommate's words. "Wait…" I began as it all started to come together. That's when it hit me. "Did we…?"

I didn't even need to ask the question. Based on Cliff's expression, I already knew the answer. The guilt I felt was replaced with another feeling, one I couldn't fully understand.

"Yeah…" my roommate responded slowly. He continued to vigilantly watch my facial expressions as I tried to make sense of this new information.

"We…" I couldn't even bring myself to say it.

Cliff opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, Ann had set down our breakfast in front of us.

"You two enjoy your food, okay?" Ann chirped.

We thanked the waitress and quickly dug into our meals. She smiled, utterly oblivious to what she had walked into, and made her way back to the kitchen. Cliff and I ate our breakfasts in silence for a good five minutes until I decided to speak up again.

"Cliff, did I really… ?"

"I don't know what else you want me to tell you," Cliff stated. His voice got quieter, "You slept with Claire last night." I knew it by now, but I didn't know if I was ready to hear it out loud. I shook my head at his words as they replayed in my mind.

"You slept with Claire last night."

I barely knew the girl. Hell, I didn't even know if I liked the girl. The only time we seemed to get along so far was when we were drunk. That didn't seem to matter though, I still had sex with her anyway. I thought I'd left the meaningless drunken hookups behind me in the city, but here I was, doing the same reckless shit. Maybe Kai was right about me, that I was just as bad as him, sleeping around with anyone that would take me. It just made me feel gross.

All I could do was shake my head at myself. How could I not remember something like that? And how did I manage to accomplish that while blacked out?

My half-finished meal sat in front of me as I poked it with my fork. I wasn't very hungry anymore, and I wasn't sure if it was the hangover or the disgust in myself.

"Wait… how do you know?" I finally questioned Cliff. "Did you... see anything?" He immediately looked down at his shoes and swallowed hard.

Shit. Cliff didn't even have to say anything at this point; his behavior said it all.

"Well…" he whispered, "when I came home from Kai's, I kind of uh… walked in on you two." A deep pink blush developed on Cliff's face as he held his hands up defensively. "But I promise I didn't see anything!"

I threw my head in my hands to hide my matching flush. "Ugh. Fuck. I'm so sorry," I groaned into my hands. "I'm such a shitty roommate."

Cliff shook his head, a small smile on his face. At that moment, I felt lucky to have him as my roommate. I shuddered at the thought of Kai, or literally anyone else, walking in on me. But especially Kai.

"It's okay, Gray. Everyone makes mistakes," Cliff assured me. "It's important that you take accountability for those mistakes, though." All the time he spent with Carter was clearly paying off. I sighed at the implications of Cliff's words.

"I should go talk to her," I decided out loud. Cliff nodded, finishing the last bits of his omelet rice before pushing the plate forward.

"That might be a good idea," Cliff replied as if he hadn't indirectly suggested it.

"Smart-ass," I joked, pushing myself up from the table. Cliff simply smirked in reply and followed suit. After a quick goodbye, we went our separate ways.

.

Despite a strange start to the day, work proceeded as usual. I tried to stay focused on finishing the ax in front of me, though the throbbing in my head hadn't stopped. Even still, I managed to find myself distracted by the events of the last twenty-four hours. My eyes kept glancing over to the small ticking clock overhead. Time was moving excruciatingly slow, but at the same time, I feared what would happen when the time did pass.

I knew I had to talk to Claire when I got off but had no clue what I would say. I regretted making such a dumb fucking mistake. The last thing I wanted was for her to get the wrong idea about me or what happened between us. It meant nothing, and I had to ensure she knew that. I also knew we needed to be on the same page if we were going to keep this under wraps. Hot gossip traveled fast in a small town, and I didn't want to risk spreading rumors that would affect either of us. I wasn't sure how to articulate all that out loud to her, though. Even if I wasn't sure how I felt about Claire, I knew talking to her about our incident was ultimately the right thing.

"What's got you all time conscious, boy?" My grandfather spoke up from his desk after watching me check the clock religiously.

I didn't even look up from my work to reply, "Nothing."

"Do you have a date?" he asked, now amused. I scoffed at his ridiculous question.

"That's the last thing on my to-do list," I replied, pulling the ax off of the grinder.

"Is it Mary?" he teased.

"No." I looked into the dull face of the blade and tightened my grip on the wooden handle. Slowly rotating the ax in my hands, I spoke softer this time around, "We're... not seeing each other anymore."

Gramps seemed especially interested as he swiveled his chair towards me. "Hmm, is that so?" he mused. "Who's got you distracted then? Is it that nice farmer girl?"

"No!" I snapped, dropping the ax on the counter. That's the last thing I wanted to hear, but he was half right.

"That's a damn shame. She seems like a sweet girl, hardworking, too," my grandpa responded with a sigh. "You know, Gray. Maybe if you found a real girlfriend, you'd stop being such a grump and get some real work done."

I simply grunted in response. Takes a grump to fucking know one. I didn't care if he thought I was disrespectful; I had no intention of discussing my love life with my grandfather.

After several more tedious hours silently sweating, the clock finally reached 1:30 PM. The part of the day that I had been dreading the most was upon me: it was time to talk to Claire. I said my goodbye to Gramps and exited the shop.

Once outside in the hot summer sun, I stopped and leaned against the white picket fence along the path. I hadn't thought about what I would say to Claire and knew that I needed some sort of plan. I couldn't waltz onto her farm like, "Hey, so we hooked up last night! Let's talk about that!" The very idea of it made me cringe. But then again, the entire situation was uncomfortable as fuck. I needed to accept that it would be impossible not to make this awkward, ultimately figuring that I'd just show up and wing it. It was better than nothing.

I made the short walk south to Claire's farm in almost record time, but my steps became slower as I arrived at the entrance. I inspected the grounds in search of the blonde farmer, but she was nowhere to be found. Her flourishing crops looked like they had been watered, and her foal was prancing around in the field, so I figured she had to be inside if she was on the property. I shuffled over to the small farmhouse and knocked on its door.

No response.

I waited it out a few more minutes, still no response. It was mid-day anyway; I guessed it was no surprise that Claire wasn't home on a warm summer day. I felt slightly relieved. Maybe I wasn't going to have to talk to her after all.

"Gray…?" A feminine voice called from behind.

I spun around to see Claire standing behind me. Nevermind.

In one hand, she held a fishing rod; the other had a seemingly full pail of fish. She looked a little more like the Claire I was used to this time. Her typical flannel was replaced with a grungy t-shirt tucked into a pair of overalls that had been roughly cut into shorts. Claire's damp golden hair was messily thrown in a ponytail on the top of her head, and mud spotted her like a cow.

Admittedly, she was a bit of a mess, but it was her eyes that caught my attention. Her irises seemed to gleam like polished sapphires in the direct sunlight; they were so bright and full of energy. As captivating as those doe-eyes were, something about them seemed so... familiar. I couldn't look away from her at that moment; my brain was racing to try and make sense of the faint, fleeting memories I had of that face.

When Claire set down the bucket and brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, I realized that I was spending a little too long staring and immediately looked down at my shoes. Shit. I haven't even said anything yet, and I'm already embarrassing myself.

I cleared my throat at glanced back at the farmer. "Claire," I greeted her, pulling down my cap, "fancy seeing you here." I wanted to kick myself for how lame I must have sounded.

"Well, this is my farm, y'know," she replied with a slight chuckle. There was a brief silence where she continued to stare at me, seemingly waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, she picked up the pail and quickly spoke again with a sheepish grin, "Where are my manners? Come in. I just have to put these in the fridge."

I nodded and stepped to the side. Claire pushed open her door, and I followed close behind.

It was a simple farmhouse but seemed almost a little too big for just one person, especially considering the room that Kai, Cliff, and I shared. The main room contained a small green couch, an analog TV, a coffee table, and a bare bookshelf. Past the living area was a simple dining room set and fireplace, leading into a small kitchen. Farther down the hall, there were two doors, which I assumed were her bedroom and a bathroom. Given that the house had been abandoned for some time before Claire's arrival, it seemed in decent shape.

I took a seat on the sofa in the middle of the living room as Claire excused herself to the kitchen. As I waited for Claire to finish up, I took a closer look around. Besides a few blankets draped over the sides of the couch, there was little decoration in the home and a lot of dust; it barely looked like anybody lived there.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I heard Claire call from the kitchen.

"I'm good, thanks," I answered, knowing that I wanted to make this interaction as brief as possible. Beverages only complicated my ability to leave on my own terms.

The rummaging in the kitchen stopped, and a few moments later, Claire was walking back towards the living room.

"Soooo…" Claire started as she passed the dining room table. She sat down on the opposite side of the couch a few feet away from me, positioning herself on the edge of the seat so that she was facing me. "What brings you here today?"

When her curious eyes met mine, I felt my face heat up and anxiously tugged at the brim of my hat. I still had no idea what I would say, and I was seriously considering if it was too late to turn back.

A few moments of silence passed as I questioned why the hell I would willingly put myself in such an uncomfortable situation. Taking accountability for my actions fucking sucked, and I was starting to regret letting Cliff talk me into it. I just needed to get this over with as soon as possible.

"We should talk," I finally spoke up, moving my gaze down to my hands. "About last night…" Claire took a slow breath and ran her hand through her ponytail. My pulse steadily increased as I waited for her response.

"Yeah…I actually—"

"Wait, just... let me say something first," I interrupted Claire, looking directly into her eyes. She bit her lip and nodded. My heartbeat was echoing in my ears. "I, uh, want to apologize. I was way too drunk last night. That's not who I am…" I took a deep breath and gripped the material above my knees, "I don't want you to get the wrong impression from me… or what happened."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked innocently, tilting her head. I directed my attention back to my hands. She wasn't going to make this easy for me, was she?

"I don't want you to think that I was just trying to take advantage of you or anything like that. And…" I trailed off, still avoiding Claire's attempt at eye contact, fists full of fabric, "I was uh, worried that maybe—"

"I'm on the pill if that's what you're worried about," she interjected nonchalantly. I was unaware that the phrase could be spoken so casually, but my heart skipped a beat nonetheless.

"Ah, no. I mean, that's good, just... not that." The thought hadn't crossed my mind until Claire mentioned it. I didn't even think to check if any condoms were missing from my bedside earlier, but I guess I didn't need to. At least one of us had thought that far ahead. Stupid didn't even begin to describe how I was feeling.

Claire crossed one leg over the other and propped an elbow on her knee."Oh?" she asked slowly, leaning her head against her hand. "Alrighty. Then what?"

I took a deep breath to try and refocus myself. How do you tell somebody nicely that you regret everything? That you don't want anything to do with them? "I just, I don't want you to think that… well…" my voice faltered as I searched for the words to use.

"Well, what?" Claire prodded with a slight frown. There was an edge to her voice, clearly unsatisfied with how little I was giving her to go off of. Her brows were furrowed as she scanned me for answers.

After a few seconds of silence, I turned back to meet her gaze, "It's nothing, just…" I lifted a hand to squeeze the back of my neck, trying to think of how to phrase my concerns. "I don't want you thinking we're… together because of what happened." Claire didn't immediately respond, so I nervously continued the thought, "I'm just not looking for a relationship right now, so if we could just forget this ever happened..."

Claire reached across the couch and placed her hand on mine, giving it a small squeeze. I instinctually released the fabric I had been gripping in surprise. Her hand was cold and rough with callouses, but her grip was light and friendly.

"Gray, really," Claire said with a smile, catching me off guard, "it was a drunken hook-up, don't worry about it. You don't need to explain yourself to me. I get it." She removed her hand and pushed some damp bangs from her face. "It was a little careless, but nobody's perfect, y'know?"

Just like the first time I met Claire, I found myself taken back by what had come out of her mouth. Was Claire implying it was all my fault? Was she joking with me? I couldn't tell.

"Whoa, back up there," I said defensively, holding up both hands in front of me. "It was equally as much your fault as it was mine. I wasn't the only one who was drinking."

Claire narrowed her eyes at me, but a sly grin grew simultaneously. "That's… not what I meant. But if you want to blame it on the alcohol, I didn't even drink half as much as you did!" she accused with a hint of sass. "And you were the one pushing it. I was just drunk enough to fall for it." The urge to argue with her was real, but I also found myself smiling.

"Yeah, right, from what I remember, you were all over me the entire night," I countered back. It was a lie; I still had no recollection of what had actually happened. But Claire didn't know that.

Claire rolled her eyes in response, but I could still see a hint of a smile in the corners of her lips. "As if," she scoffed, "if I had been sober, it would have been a different story."

Ouch, low blow. For some reason, that jab stung. I was done with the playful banter; I knew I needed to leave before saying something I would regret. Ready to be finished with the conversation, I lifted myself off the couch and stood over the blonde.

"Let's just remember whose bed you woke up in this morning," I said without thinking, maintaining my smirk. Was it the best thing to say? No. Was I going to take it back? Also no.

Claire shot up, her hands tightening into fists as they hung by her side. She pouted and let out a defeated sigh. "You're kind of a dick, y'know?" I heard Claire call to me as I walked towards the front door. Maybe she was right. But I had said what needed to be said and could finally get the hell out of there.

"Good talk," I replied, ignoring her remark. "I'll see ya around, Claire." Just as I grabbed the doorknob to leave, Claire pulled me back by my sleeve. I instinctively looked over my shoulder at the blonde, surprised to see her right behind me.

"Wait…" she said softly. I looked down at the girl, puzzled by her action. The expression on Claire's face had changed entirely. Instead of the smug smile she had been sporting earlier, a pair of aquamarine puppy-dog eyes stared up at me, pleading. Any ounce of confidence she had been putting forth was gone. "Please, can we just keep this between us? I don't want people knowing I slept with you… it's just, I'm new, and I know it will be hard—"

"I get it," I interrupted, not wanting to hear her talk about it anymore.

I wasn't sure if she didn't want people in town knowing she had slept with someone so quickly or didn't want people to know it was me. I thought I shared that sentiment, but something about her words hurt my ego. Sticking around to bask in that feeling was the last thing I wanted to do.

I yanked my arm away from Claire's grip and pushed open the door, "You don't need to worry about me." I let the door slam behind me and left the property without looking back.

So much for a drunk good deed.