I must’ve dosed off while watching yet another season of Real World fly by (how many seasons are there in this freaking show?) because I shot away the second the door creaked. I see my mom walk in followed by Rebecca’s.
“Hey Anthony,” my mom says.She says it slowly like she has to focus on the words coming out of her mouth the way she wants. I’ve seen people talk like that. She’s drunk. Great.
“Hello,” I say and stand up running a hand through my hair. I’ve seen drunk people before but I don’t know if my mom is a nice drunk or a mean one. The mean drunks are never fun and usually ruin the party.
“Okay is Rebecca?” My mom says and blinks a few times. I ignore her yoda-ism and get them two bottles of water, handing one to each mom. I’m guessing Rebecca’s mom is drunk too since she’s not speaking and looks focused on the window outside. I help them to the couch (I’ve had lots of practice with drunk people. You have to lead them instead of tell them. If you tell them what to do they blink at you and don’t move.)
“Rebecca?” I knock on the door and try for the door knob. Thanks for locking it, Rebecca. Real mature.
I stand there for a couple seconds and go to knock again when she opens the door. She doesn’t look too happy. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder and her extremely soft looking pajama shorts are slightly sideways. Apparently she’s a violent sleeper.
“What?” She asks and yawns, pushing hair off her face.
“They’re drunk.”
“Really?” She peeks over my shoulder without much luck. Even standing on her toes she can’t see over. I move and see looks at the parents sitting on the couch looking extremely unmotherly. She shakes her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Look at that. Last thing I would expect them to do on the first night.”
“Seriously. What are we supposed to do? Let them sleep on the couch?”
“If they try to move we’ll help them but for now they look a little less then messed up.”
“They’re not as bad as most drunks,” I shrug and Rebecca shoots me a look, brushing by. She squats down near her mom and talks to her for a while. After a while she just looks frustrated.
“Let them sleep there,” Rebecca tells me when she comes back and then goes back to her bed.
“Am I allowed back into the room?” I ask her hopefully. I’ll end up on the floor if the moms take the couch.
“Don’t bother me if you do,” she tells me and goes back under her covers.
I smile a little and close the door, going by the moonlight streaming in from the window. I go over to my bed and look at the ceiling, sinking into the thick comforter. I look at Rebecca who I think is already asleep. She must’ve been really tired. A small bit of skin is visible where her shirt has ridden up. I turn to the other side and finally sink into sleep.
-
I wake up to Rebecca still sleeping. Apparently she’s sleep deprived or something because she fell asleep like nine last night and it’s already eight in the morning. I get out of bed, groaning a bit as my feet hit the freezing wood. What do they do the flooring here? It’s cold all the time. I creep out of the room and see my mom still out on the couch and Rebecca’s mom gone. She must’ve gotten herself all the way to her room. Impressive.
