and the stars will all come out

chapter ten! ☆

"DUDE. DUDE. ARE YOU AWAKE, OR ARE YOU NOT?"

Landry's eyes suddenly shot open: she immediately recognized where she was, staring up at the ceiling on Dave's basement couch, but she realized she had a nasty hungover immediately after that, and then she was miserable.

Her mouth was incredibly dry, her eyes were puffy, she had a vague urge to vomit, her head felt like it was splitting in two, and she didn't know what was going on. What the hell had gone on here?

Confused, blinking rapidly, she propped herself up on her elbows. "Wussdamatter?"

She rubbed her puffy, crusty eyes, blinked, and slowly, Taylor's face swam into view. For some reason, he was crouching in front of her, and he looked very concerned.

From Taylor's perspective, she looked hungover, but fine, so he stood up.

"Just wanted to make sure you were awake, dude. You were out for a long time, you know."

But very bright sunlight was streaming in through the now-uncovered basement window, and with the light overwhelming her vision, Landry couldn't focus on much else.

She wanted to ask where the others were, but she was simply too exhausted to do anything other than be miserable. Her mouth, as it was impossible to ignore, tasted like a swamp, and more than anything, she wanted to melt into the couch.

Landry swallowed thickly. "I need some Tylenol, like, ASAP."

After a lot more effort than it should have taken, she pulled herself to her feet and went to walk upstairs, but Taylor got there first.

"Take it easy, I got it," he said generously, holding up a hand. "You go lay down, okay?"

Landry stared at him blankly: no one had ever treated her like this. "Where are the others?"

"They're upstairs," he responded. He was talking much more softly than usual, and it was making her feel like a bewildered, injured animal. "I'll tell them you're awake."

She blinked. Why was everyone so patronizing? "Uh - okay."

"You can stay for as long as you want," Taylor continued. "I put your bag on the chair over there, and - well, you already know the basement bathroom is down the hallway, to the right, so you should have everything you need, right? You even get the not broken shower."

"Thanks, T," Landry mumbled weakly.

"No problem, Lan. Listen, you don't need to come upstairs, but don't be surprised if Dave drops down for a bit, alright?"

Before she could respond, he grinned at her mischievously. "You do know you stole his bed, right?"

Landry looked down at herself on the couch, too hungover to think straight.

"He sleeps in the basement?" she asked dumbly.

Taylor laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, but he doesn't care. He just wants to make sure you're okay. I'm gonna get your Tylenol and then I'm gonna leave you alone, okay?"

She nodded, forcing the edges of her aching, dry mouth to go up into a weak smile. "I owe you one for this."

But Taylor was already halfway up the stairs, and quickly disappearing. "No, you actually don't!"

☆

CONSIDERING THE INSANE HANGOVER THAT WAS CURRENTLY WAGING WAR ON HER BODY, LANDRY WAS ABLE TO CLEAN HERSELF UP PRETTY QUICKLY.

She still felt the sore throat and the dry mouth and the aches and pains of a typical hangover, but at least the girl in the mirror had shiny, freshly washed hair, clean teeth, and calm, moisturized skin. She'd shaved her legs, she'd rubbed the crustiness out of her eyes, she'd put on extra lip balm, she made sure she'd fished out both the deodorant and the perfume from her bag, she'd done everything she could think of to ensure she looked normal, and yet she still felt like an embalmed corpse.