Forbidden Fruit

Amnesia

I was awoken from my dreamless coma by Julie's nails-on-chalkboard falsetto.

"Oh my God! Tell me everything!" She squealed.

"Jesus Julie, not now, my head is killing me..." I groaned, as I pulled my comforter over my head to block out the harsh sunlight in my room, well, and her too. How she could be this unnaturally energetic after a night of drinking, when I couldn't even move. It was beyond me.

She plopped down next to me on my bed with a bounce, making the springs sing, and yanked my comforter back.

I winced and slung my arm over my face to shield my eyes again. "Go away..."

She shook my arm. "You're not getting out of this one, tell me you vixen!"

"Tell you what?" I annoyingly asked, with a voice hoarse from last night's festivities and removed my arm to rest my hand against my hot forehead.

"'Tell me what?'" She repeated with an appalled tone.

"Seriously Julie, I'm too hungover for this... what time is it anyway?"

"It's almost noon. Oh, and here's your keys, you left them in the door."

"I left them in the door?"

"Yea, I guess you must have been in a hurry." She said with a mischievous spark in her eyes and suggestion in her voice.

"Whatever... maybe I was just drunk." I muttered.

Her knee began impatiently bouncing, as I sloth-like turned onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and scrunched my brows when I noticed that she was wearing the same clothes from last night.

"Why are you still wearing the same clothes as last night? Did you pass out on the bathroom floor again?" I snorted, only to hiss at the extra pressure it added to my near bursting skull.

"I'm not answering any of your questions until you start dishing up some juicy details."

"What are you talking about?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping it would sedate my growing headache.

"You really don't remember?" Now concern seemed to color her voice.

"Stop joking around Julie, whatever you're getting at I'm not falling for it."

"Shit not again," she muttered.

"What?" I asked with genuine confusion.

"If I ask you why there's a hot Finnish guy passed out on our couch, you honest to God, have no idea of how he got there?"

"Ha-Ha, very funny... you almost got me."

"Oh fuck, it actually happened again," she muttered. "Look, I'm not joking. Go take a look for yourself." She said as she casually gestured towards my closed door with her hand.

I cocked a brow at her and gave her an uneasy side glance, was she actually being serious? My eyes widened when I realized that I had no recollection of how I actually got home last night, let alone how I got into bed. It did happen again! I lifted my covers, and breathed a sigh of relief. I was still in all my clothes from last night, all except my shirt. Why would I change my shirt, but not pull off my tight stockings, which were cutting me in half by my waist? It didn't make sense.

I gasped.

"I sense we're on the same page now?"

"I swear Julie, if you are joking right now!"