a work of art

chapter 29: higher education

When I woke up the next morning, I was instantly confused. Billie was clinging tightly to me, as usual, but my back hurt. Actually, fucking everything hurt.

I blinked up at the ceiling, not seeing Bill's four poster bed, and remembered. We were on the living room floor. And I was extremely hungover.

"Kill me," Billie whimpered. "I want to die."

I tried to sit up. "Welcome to the world of tequila."

"I hate this world," she whined, and pulled the pillow over her head. "Why did you bring me here?"

"It seemed like a really good idea at the time," I muttered, scratching my head. "But I guess it usually does."

I sat for a moment, wondering if I should throw up or make pancakes, when my eyes fell on Claire's bedding on the couch. She wasn't in it. I stared, confused.

And then I remembered. "Oh, my god."

"What?" Billies voice came muffled from under the pillow.

"Nothing," I muttered. I'd tell her later, when she wasn't in so much physical pain.

I got up and padded to the kitchen, head pounding, and got a glass of water. I took a sip, and immediately spit it back up in the sink. I paused for a moment, breathing heavy through the nausea until it passed. Then I took another sip, and it stayed down.

I checked both bathrooms for Claire, but couldn't find her. Then I saw Shark running around outside, and went to the glass French doors leading out to the pool. Claire was sitting alone in the shade of the patio. I opened the door and went out.

Shark ran to me, and I patted him. Claire looked up. She'd been scribbling something in a little notebook on her lap, and as I approached she closed it.

"Hey," I said, squinting at her. "How ya feeling?"

Her face was a little splotchy from drinking, or possibly from crying. I hoped it wasn't the latter.

"I've had worse mornings," she said wryly. "But... still pretty shitty."

I nodded. "Me too. And Bill."

"Is she okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, she probably feels worse than us. But she's alright."

"Not a lot of hangover experience, huh?" She chuckled.

I shook my head, smiling. "Nope."

We existed in awkward silence for a moment. Then —

"Claire, I—"

"I just wanna—"

We laughed quietly. "You first," I said.

She looked down at her notebook. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I care so much about Billie and I really... like you. It was a dick move, and I'm sorry."

I nodded at her apology, staring at my feet while I thought through what I was going to say. She waited patiently.

"I need you to know that if you hadn't kissed me, I would've kissed you."

I looked up, and her eyebrows were raised.

"Oh," she said, her voice low. "That's... wait why did you need me to know that? I could've gone on not knowing that and —"