twenty three • morning glory

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I have never slept anywhere but my own house – I don't count the handful of nights that I didn't sleep a wink by Mom's side in hospital – so it's disorienting to wake up next to Liam, in Liam's bed, in Liam's huge room in his massive house. He's a silent sleeper, his face pressed into the pillow and his leg slung over mine, and he's a heavy sleeper too. He doesn't stir when my bladder awakens and forces me out of bed.

It strikes me that I never went to the bathroom last night. We grabbed a McDonald's around midnight but after we got here, we made out for all of a few minutes before we fell asleep and now it's six o'clock in a strange house and I really have to pee.

Tugging my baggy work shirt over the underwear I slept in, my bra discarded at some point when I realized how uncomfortable it was, I creep into the hallway and try to remember which doors belong to bedrooms. The last thing I want to do is spook one of Liam's million siblings.

There's an open door at the end of the landing. I spy the white porcelain of a sink and hurry up before the urge to pee renders me immobile. Relief swamps me when I duck into the bright room, but I skid to a stop when I hear a slosh of water and a quiet, "Oh!"

Time slows. I turn, horrified to see that the bathtub isn't empty. My bladder is still crying out but now I have a bigger crisis on my hands, when I make eye contact with Liam's mom. She's wearing a look of surprise and nothing else. When I gasp, she covers her chest with the book in her hand and pushes wet hair off her face, disrupting the bubbles that cover some of her body.

I should run. I desperately want to run but I know that if I move right now, I will pee myself. My thighs are clamped together so tightly it hurts. I clap a hand over my eyes, on the edge of tears. This is pure mortification. My cheeks are actually burning. "I'm so sorry! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Oh my God. I'll pee if I move. I'm so sorry."

She laughs. I wasn't expecting that. "Oh, honey," she says, "just you wait until you've had six kids and you pee every time you sneeze!"

I can't believe this is how I'm meeting Liam's mom. I can't believe she's acting like she's not naked and I'm not her son's new girlfriend, whom she has never met before. I can't say anything else. I'm dying as it is so as soon as desperation subsides for just a moment, I flee without another word.

Downstairs, the third door I try is a closet of a bathroom and I lock myself in, on the edge of an accident by the time I sink onto the cool ceramic and hang my head in my hands.

Oh. My. God.

This was a terrible idea. I shouldn't have come here. I can't face her now. I'll just hide from her for the rest of the weekend. That can't be so hard, right? This place is a freaking castle. I bet I can evade her notice.

I don't even know how long I've sat here formulating a plan but after what feels like years, I hear footsteps and then voices and my cheeks color a deeper shade of embarrassment. My t-shirt is big but it still barely covers my butt and I wish I'd pulled on my damn pants before I left Liam's room. I wish he'd warned me that his mom bathes with the door open.

Now or never. As much as I wish the opposite, I can't stay in here forever. I wash my hands and cool my cheeks, and I step out of the tiny bathroom into the sprawling kitchen. Liam's mom is a couple of meters away in a bathrobe, wet hair to her shoulders and a mug in her hands, and she gives me a wide smile.

She has Liam's smile. Well, he has hers. Wide and reassuring and genuine. Actually, he totally takes after her, except for size. He's tall and toned, lean and fit. His mom isn't much taller than me, and nearly as big. It's weirdly comforting. I had it in my head that she'd be tall and skinny and she'd judge me for my size.

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