Three Friends

"Oh, hi," Heather says to her surprised hallmate. She awkwardly edges around the heavy door and eases it shut behind herself.

"Heyyy...?" says Denise. She crinkles one eyebrow. "You have a good time last night?"

Heather shakes her head a little. "Um... excuse me," she manages. She needs to say something reasonable to Denise but. No. She NEEDS to get to her room, and lie down, before she faints.

Denise watches her until she has found her way back to her door. Then she goes on into the stairwell.

===

Lacey clucks like somebody's mother. "And WHERE did you say your shirt was?"

Heather shakes her blanket-swaddled head wanly, but her voice is hearteningly casual. "It was... I swear I hung it up in the closet." The warm, rosy light of early evening slants over the far wall.

Lacey sits down in the bed. "Honey, we know you were outside. That's how you got sick, remember," (here she playfully, but very gently, shakes the mattress) "and got your silly ass all bug-bitten!"

"Well it wasn't my ass," giggles Heather. She rubs the little dots on her boob contentedly, knowing that she isn't going to tell her friends about THAT set of marks--she'd never hear the end of it then!

But nevermind--basically she's just happy that they're here, and that aside from her little secret, everything is normal and right again. "Speaking of that, though," she begins, and Lacey and Amy lean in.

"Oh no way," crows Amy attentively from the computer chair. "You did NOT get a mosquito bite on your ass!"

"Tell all, nature girl," chimes in Lacey. Her eyes shine with mischief--but at the tiniest sign of real distress from Heather, she'd be fierce with bright concern. "Maybe that shirt of yours is hanging up... onnnnn a tree?" Her voice becomes funny and dramatic. "Orrrr... maybe it's in a bush!"

"Shut UP!" laughs Heather, weakly. She snuggles back into her pillow. "I just... I mean... it kind of hurts, you know?"

"What does, honey?" asks Amy, more alertly now.

"My... my ass," says Heather sheepishly. They all begin to laugh. Well, nevermind, thinks Heather. Nevermind not being able to remember it. And feeling okay about that, even though she shouldn't. But really, what could have happened, she reasons, picking over her secret amnesia for the tenth time. It was just some weird drunk-person's diarrhea, or something. And she has already resolved never to drink again.

Well, not more than one beer in a night, anyway. Or... something like that. Whatever seems reasonable. She'll work it out.

There's a knock at the door. "Come in," call two strong voices and one weaker one.

Sara sticks her head in. "Hey Heather, they found where you were last night!"

"Oh noooo," groans Heather. She hasn't been out of her room all day, and she'd forgotten about Denise, of course Denise would talk, but if she could forget so much else then of course she could forget this too.... She blushes brightly, and grinds her head far back into the bedclothes. She isn't used to forgetting important things.

"Oh?" asks Lacey. She pats Heather's hand gently.

"Yeah, um, somebody said there were like... beer stains on the floor, and stuff, and it turned out Steve and them heard some people upstairs, in exactly the same room... um... I'm sorry...." Sara begins to blush herself, as she sees how her news is affecting Heather.

"Well, maybe we'd better talk to them," says Lacey. She stands and goes to the door; Amy follows with a pugnacious look on her face. They know how gossip works--though it can't be too terrible yet, since this is Heather. Everybody likes Heather.

"Wait," says Heather. Lacey pauses at the door, while Amy raises her voice somewhere outside. ("Nobody fucking cares where her shirt is," she says to someone in that challenging, half-playful way she has where you know she isn't gonna back down.)

"Oh. Do you need more soup?"

"No... just stay with me, please?" At this moment Heather looks as sick as she really is, rather sicker than even she thinks she is--and Lacey's eyes soften. She returns to her seat on the bed, making sure not to jostle Heather too much.

"Nobody is gonna leave you, babe," she says, hugging her friend.