"I can't remember what happened that night. I'm not talking slippery details or fuzzy-edged visions; I mean a complete and utter blackout. Like I wasn't even there. Except... I know I was."
Since the death of her boyfriend six months ago, Morgan Cai...
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Josh and I didn't leave the Halloween party together.
This was planned; while I soon tired, both physically and mentally, of the party that had moved on from Cat's apartment, Josh had better stamina. I stayed long enough, smiling and chatting and dancing alongside him, but by the time two a.m. rolled around all I wanted to do was get back home and go to bed.
"I'll come with you," Josh told me, when I said this to him. He was holding another drink at the time and took this as a cue to down it. "You're staying over at my place anyway, right?"
"I don't want to make you leave early," I said. "I've got a key to your apartment—I could just let myself in and go to bed. Then you can come back when you're ready."
He looked at me like I was crazy. Still, I could tell he was drunk; his eyes weren't quite focusing as they should. "You think I'm going to leave you to walk back on your own? Obviously not. I'm coming with."
"Josh, this place is, like, a two-minute walk from your street. It's not a big deal."
"I still don't want you to walk for two minutes alone."
"But you're having a good time," I said, which was something he wouldn't be able to argue with. "Seriously, don't let me spoil your fun. If you want to stay, then stay."
I could tell he was tempted. After a second's pause, he took both of my hands in his. "How about," he said, pulling me closer, "I walk you back to the front door of my apartment block, and then I walk the two minutes back here?"
It was a compromise that left me feeling less guilty. So I smiled and nodded. "Sure."
That was how I ended up here: cozy and starfished in the middle of Josh's bed, enjoying the extra mattress space as well as the general peace of his apartment. The few hours of socializing had wiped me out, and I'd pretty much crashed as soon as I got back, pausing only to take off my make-up and change into my pajamas before collapsing into bed. I must've drifted off in record timing. And that was how I stayed—at least for a couple of hours until there was a crash in the living room.
I sat bolt upright in bed, disoriented at first by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then I remembered.
"Josh?" I called out, throwing the covers off my legs. "Is that you?"
There was another noise, this one more muffled, like a foot colliding with a rogue piece of furniture. I was about to get out of bed and follow it when a figure appeared at the door.
"Well, hello."
Drunk was an understatement. Josh was practically swaying on the spot, his keys hooked through one finger and jangling against each other. His hair was sticking up in all directions and his eyes were completely glazed over.
I glanced over at the alarm clock on his bedside table; it was almost five in the morning.
"I forgot you were here," he announced. "What a nice little surprise for me."
