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"Oh! No, he didn't do anything wrong. He's wonderful. It's complicated."
Dax inspects my face to make sure I’m not lying. "Oh girl, you've got it bad."
"I just met him!”
With sarcasm and friendship, Dax says, “You think that matters? Do you think love waits?"
NINETEEN
Willow
When I awake in the morning, my head is pounding, predictively. "Aspirin," I groan. My roommate doesn't wake, and I slip out of the room after a quick teeth brushing, heading downstairs to the communal bathroom where there is a first aid kit I spied yesterday when I changed out the toilet paper roll. Gotta be some kind of pain meds in there. I avoided looking at the couch on my way in, tiptoeing my little heart out, But now there's no avoiding looking at Ben when I leave the bathroom empty handed, because he is sitting up and rubbing his gorgeous face, greeting me with a frown, “Morning.”
“Good morning, Ben,“ I reply with a shy smile. “Aspirin?”
I jump at the sound of Sylvia in the kitchen, "I have some. Brought it down with me." She pokes her head out, hand holding the coveted bottle everyone will partake of, I'm sure of it. Except probably Ben since he drank so little. And he’s so big.
"Oh you're up, Sylvia! Good morning." I take the offered relief and follow her to a brewing industrial-sized coffee maker. "I think I'm in love with you right now." The words fall out of my mouth, and it's everything I can do to not look over at that sofa. But when I hear his huge feet hit the hardwood, heavy footsteps following, I look behind me and offer a smile. "How did you sleep?" After we kissed and I ran out on you…
"Not good."
Sylvia's eyebrows raise and she directs her question at him. "You didn't sleep well? Oh no. Is the couch not comfortable?"
He flicks a glance my way, then back to her. "A lot on my mind."
"I can relate to that." I say before I realize I'm talking out loud. To be less conspicuous I joke, "Feels like I've got a railroad riding through my brain. I mean, a train. Can't think straight.”
"Well, coffee will help that,” Sylvia says, “And I'm going to make some eggs and hash browns. They should soak up some of what we did last night." She laughs, stops, and holds her head. "Ouch."
I smile, “We are definitely paying the price for all that fun."
She agrees, "We really are. But I haven't danced like that in years. Oh, you know what, I forgot to brush my teeth. I'll be right back." Covering her mouth as she passes me, Sylvia hurries up the stairs and disappears.
Alone with Ben, I quietly ask him, lest anyone else is heading down and could overhear, “Did you sleep badly because of me?"
"There's a lot going on in my life right now."
Feeling guilty I lean against a counter, head dropping to stare at my bare feet, toes polished cherry red. “I didn’t mean to add to your problems. I’m sorry I came back down here. That was my fault. Or the booze’s. Can I blame the booze?”
Ignoring my apology he continues, “And you're the best part of it."
I raise my gaze to meet his. “What?"
“I don't want an apology from you.” He pauses. “Last night was the most fun I've had in a long time, confusing as it was. I don't mean to say that you caused the confusion. It's just that,” He rubs his head, gaze dropping to the floor while he frowns. “I’m not sure how to say this… so I'm just going to spit it out.”
We hear footsteps coming down the stairs, silencing our conversation immediately, and Maggie and Pete appear, both in the same shape I am in. Wanting desperately to hear the rest of what Ben had to say, I greet them by holding up the aspirin bottle. Maggie declines and says that she had some in her bag, holding it up as an offer to me. "I brought this down for everybody."
"I took some. But thank you. Good thinking."
When everyone joins us, the room filling up fast only minutes afterward, the coffee is ready and only the Brooklyn girls and Dax seem hardly affected by last night’s activities. They must've built up an immunity out there in their real lives.
Steve says, “At least I was stretching out during that chaos. My body feels amazing. My head? Not so much."
Marco smiles, Italian accent thick, “For the first time, I didn't think about my ex-wife. It was a relief. Shit, I just thought about her.”
Eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast do their best to stave off the fog of our beaten up brains. We’re all around the dining table, scarfing the yummies down as quickly as our tender stomachs will allow, some eating faster than others.
Laura, a slow eater, smiles, “This is delicious Sylvia, thank you,” just as Rachel walks in the front door looking freshly showered, unlike the rest of us.
