Prank Date [✔]

Part 8

A vibration next to my head woke me. Earthquake! I shot upright and then sank back, clutching my head. "Oh, God."

Something rough and wet trailed across her forehead.

It took me a moment to figure out that the vibration hadn't been caused by an earthquake but by Kuma's jumping on the bed. Now he apparently thought I needed a bath—kuma-style.

"Not helping, Kuma." I sat up again, this time more slowly. Pain pulsed through my temples but then ebbed away when I stopped moving and leaned back against the headboard.

I looked around the bedroom, trying to remember the details of how I had gotten here. I remembered getting into Lisa's car; the rest was a bit fuzzy. My shoes sat next to the bed, and Lisa's jacket was missing, but otherwise, I was fully dressed. A glass of water waited for me on the bedside table.

Had Lisa put it there?

I reached for the glass with the greed of a person dying of thirst. I gulped down the water, getting rid of the horrible taste in my mouth. With my  head still hammering, I lay back in bed and tried to piece together the events of last night.

Oh God. I covered my eyes with my hands. Had I really shouted at Lisa and gone off on her like a manic woman about life not being Noah's ark? Part of last night's anger returned. Why hadn't she stopped asking so many personal questions? Yeah, and why didn't you stop answering them?

I couldn't help feeling that I had said too much, revealed too much. That damned wine. I vowed to never drink a drop of alcohol again. At least not around Lisa and her constant questions.

The doorbell rang, making me clutch my head. The sudden movement increased the pain. Barefoot, I trudged to the door and glanced through the peephole.

As if last night's humiliation hadn't been enough, Lisa's brown eyes, not bloodshot at all, looked back at me. Oh, great. Of course she looks like the picture of sobriety, while I probably look like something Kuma dragged in.

Was I ready to face her after embarrassing myself like a teenager who had never had alcohol before? I wanted to go back to bed and hide, but letting Lisa stand in front of the door like an unwelcome visitor was not the way to thank her for getting me home.

When I opened the door, Lisa held up a pot. "I brought breakfast."

"Oh, God." The thought of food made my stomach revolt.

"It's just vegetable soup," Lisa said. "Completely vegetarian. I had a feeling that you wouldn't feel up to having eggs and —"

I pressed one hand to my stomach while I tried to cover Lisa's mouth with the other—then withdrew quickly.

She laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll stop talking about food. Go take a shower, and I'll heat up the soup."

A shower sounded heavenly, but I didn't want Lisa rooting around in my apartment while I was taking a shower.