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“How is it that I plan a party to get someone and you wind up making a possible connection?” Casey asked as she plastered an ice-pack on her head and popped two aspirins in her mouth, washing them down with a glass of water. She left her bathroom and slunk back to her bed, pulling the sheet up over her scantily-clad body. Leander was close on her heels.
“I don’t know…just my charm, I guess.” Leander said, grinning sheepishly.
“I’ll give you some charm. And then you try to knock me out with that killer punch. Are you sure you’re my friend, Leander?”
“Can I help it if you can’t hold your liquor?” he said innocently.
“Liquor I can hold--poison is another matter.” Casey mumbled.
“Who was that woman anyway?” Casey asked off-handedly.
“Her name’s Jessie. She’s Solace’s friend. Isn’t she cute?” Leander blushed.
“Why Leander, do I hear a spark of excitement about the female sex?” Casey said as she raised an eyebrow
“You know I admire both genders, Casey, so just stop it. She is quite an interesting and attractive woman, though. And I could possibly…” He trailed off.
“Wow!” Casey exclaimed, her headache temporarily forgotten. She could not remember the last time Leander had dated a woman and, frankly, she was beginning to think he had crossed the gay fence for good. This new Jessie person caused her to re-think her assumptions. She could have brained him for spiking the punch, but she felt a warm glow at her friend’s obvious happiness. She knew that Leander thought of her as a selfish twit half the time, but she also hoped he realized that she cared for him deeply and wanted to see that he attained the life and love he desired. Ugh! She must have a hangover! Where did all that come from? If he pulled a stunt like that again she’d kick him in his cute butt!
“You want some breakfast, Case?” Leander asked with an evil smirk. Casey threw a pillow in his direction, which he easily side-stepped. He left the room. She lay her aching head gently onto her pillow but before she became wrapped in the arms of Morpheous, she realized that she would have to have a serious chat with Sedilla. Poor Leander had fielded complaints about the music all day. Maybe she should ask if she could attend her next performance. Her head throbbed in protest.
