Signed /Dream Team/

43

All I want to do is shower. My hair is tangled and disgusting, my skin is sticky and I smell like Clay. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just my mind's been all over the place since I woke up and the smell is not helping.

Speaking of Clay. That idiot is taking too long in the shower. It's been almost 50 minutes. If it was George, I'd understand, cause his showers last a lifetime, but it's weird for Clay to take this long. The only thing keeping me away from banging on the door is that he has the right to take his time after babysitting us the whole night.

I start cleaning around the living room. It's a mess. The shot glasses are still here, the vodka bottle is still here, and most importantly the vodka I spilled left a massive stain on the tablecloth. It's not even a stain, it's a discoloration... proving once again that what we drank was closer to being rubbing alcohol, acetone, or bleach rather than vodka.

When I finish, Clay hits the one-hour mark in the shower. I'm starting to think he's doing something else in there, which is a perfect demonstration of the way my brain is working today.

Anyways. Soon Nick wakes up. He comes out of the room looking clueless. It almost looks like he doesn't recognize the house he's in. But after a good stretch and a few glances here and there, he finally looks at me.

"You're still alive."

Why is he so surprised?

"Never ceases to amaze you," I smile.

"Well, you were nauseous all night, thought you'd die," at least he remembers something unlike me.

"Yeah, we both were," I'm just telling him what I heard from Clay.

"I threw up once and only because I fell on my stomach from the bed. You threw up twice and it didn't even stop there, I remember you whining the whole night."

Not him bragging about being "less drunk" than me when he didn't even drink as much as me.

"At least I didn't fall from the bed-" just as I speak, I remember falling from the bed.

Nevermind.

"Then why did Clay say that he's hugging you cause you keep rolling off the bed?"

Why does he actually remember things? It's unfair.

"He just needed an excuse to hug me," I'm joking, but Nick's not having any of it.

"As far as I remember, you were the one clinging to him," he shrugs, "and you said something really dumb about being a koala and it cracked us up, I don't remember."

I'm your koala and you're my tree.

"Whatever," I laugh, "can you go check on Clay? He's been in the shower for more than an hour."

The water is still running. But as far as I know, I'm the only person in this house that actually locks the bathroom door while showering.

"What if he's jerking off?" I won't lie, Nick's words were something I did think of.

"For more than an hour?" My lips curl.

I'd successfully jerk off a whole neighborhood in that amount of time.

"I've heard he's got good stamina."

Uh..

His words are going to haunt my mind. Not only because of the context but because of the fact that he actually heard that from someone.

I look at him dumbstruck. And I proceed to look at him like that until he says "fine" and gets up to go check. If Clay's actually doing something in there and Nick gets traumatized for the rest of his life, I'm not responsible for it.