Then Kiss Me by Jade C. Jamison Page A

wanted to talk.  Even now, I’m not sure.  But I answered, “Yeah, but he’s not here.”
    David arched his eyebrows.  “My roommate, perhaps?”
    I laughed, feeling giddy.  “Perhaps.”
    David cleared his throat and lowered his voice, bringing his lips close to my ear so I could hear and no one else would be able to .  “I think he’d been waiting for someone too and was finally convinced she wasn’t coming.  So I think he went to go play pool with Jim .”
    I let his words sink in.  “Oh.”
    “Sorry.”
    I nodded.  I was a big girl.  I should have been happy knowing he’d maybe been waiting for me.  I said, “That’s okay.”  I was more disheartened than I would’ve thought I would be.  “Let’s get wasted then.”  I was too drunk to go looking for him at this point and, even if I’d been sober, I wouldn’t want to seem desperate.  His loss, not mine, right?
    So I started drinking more every time I lost until I felt myself losing hold of reality, saw the edges of the world growing black.  That was sweet release.  It helped to take my mind off Scott.  That was also a good thing because, more and more, my mind was always on Scott.
    I don’t remember passing out, but when I woke up, I was in a dark place.  I let my eyes adjust and after a while realized I was lying on David’s couch in the very same living room where I’d been doing quarters earlier.  A pillow was under my head; my shoes were off; and a light blanket covered me.  Good ol ’ David had made sure I was taken care of.  He was turning out to be a good friend.
    But I had to pee.  The urge was strong—I’m not surprised, as much as I’d been drinking.  So I stood up and my head started spinning.  I was still really drunk.  Jesus.  Why was I drink ing like a college kid again?
    I crossed the room slowly and walked to the room I thought might be the bathroom.  I opened the door slowly, listening for sleeping sounds, just in case I’d opened someone’s bedroom door.  That could’ve been embarrassing.  But I heard nothing, so I felt for the light switch.  It was the bathroom, and relief washed over me with that realization.  But then the urge hit harder , so I shut the door and used the facilities.  I didn’t bother putting my pantyhose back on.  A fter peeling the damned things off, I couldn’t brin g myself to pick them up off the floor.  Every time I tried to bend over to put them back on, my head would throb and I’d feel faint.  So I just knelt over once and carried them with me.
    I stumbled back to the couch and fell on it.  I wondered what time it was, but I wasn’t curious enough to seek out a clock to find out.  All I did know was that I was still too drunk to drive home and hurting way too much.  So I lay back down.  I couldn’t fall back to sleep for a long time because I felt so nauseous.  Did it to yourself, Casey , my subconscious nagged me.  Finally, though, at some point, I did drift off to sleep.  When I woke up again, the room was bright beyond imagination.  It hurt my eyes.  My head was pounding.  I put my hands on my temples, trying to ease the ache, my eyes still closed.  I lay there just breathing—it was all I could do.  I hadn’t had a hangover of this magnitude in a long time.
    I heard voices.  They seemed distant at first, and I could barely hear them.  As I grew more accustomed to the pain, I could make out their words better.
    “So what the hell were you guys doing?”
    “You know, just hanging out.”
    “You should’ve come home earlier.”
    “Yeah?”
    “ Yeah.   Hold on.”  That was David’s voice.  I heard footsteps, then whispering.  Ah, my sweet little matchmaker.  I was so glad I wasn’t still sleeping.  I bet I looked like shit, but had I been sleeping I would’ve looked even worse.  I heard footsteps coming my way, more quickly now.  And then I heard the creak of the coffee table as someone sat on it.  I forced myself to open my