Something I Don't Know

22: alcohol hangovers are not the worst hangovers

Someone's tongue is on my face. Or at least I think it's a tongue; it feels like a tongue. I've barely opened my eye halfway when the thing licks me again, and at first I see the blurry snout of a dog, but then I open my eyes all the way and it's Jamie's face, instead.

Then he's on top of me, arms thrown around my shoulders, ear to my chest. I cough a little, blinking tears from my eyes. It's night, I think. The sky's still dark, starless—which either indicates night, or the end of the world. "Jamie...?"

"Give him some space, Jamie," comes Midge's voice, and a second later her face swims into focus. God, Midge. You cannot understand how many different emotions swell inside at me at the sight of those wide, brown eyes, that rose-colored hair, that little freckle/mole-thing underneath her eye. I am relieved. I am happy. I am in love. And then—

And then the dread fills me. She's still mad at me, probably. For what, I'm not exactly sure. But I just remember the way she'd said my name outside on her front stoop, like it was just a word, just a way to get my attention. Like it held no value.

Jamie gets off of me, and I cough again. "What's going on?"

Someone's hand is in mine. I think it's Midge's, but then they ease me up to a sitting position and I realize it's Violet. She looks at me sadly. No, that's not it. Violet just has those naturally sad, downturned eyes that make her constantly look like she's about to break some bad news. So, truly, she just looks at me.

Midge, kneeling in front of me, doesn't answer straightaway. She has a phone held to her ear, and I think I hear a tinny version of Safiya's voice ask, "Did you find him?"

"Yeah," Midge says, with an exhale. She sounds like she's excited but is trying to hide that she's excited. "I've got him; he's right here."

Safiya continues: "Oh, thank God. Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay."

I'm not sure I ever remember Safiya caring that much, but then Midge just says, "I think," and hangs up.

Violet releases my hand, scooting back to sit beside Jamie. "What happened, Grey?" she asks. "It's been five hours since you left Midge's house. We were worried, and you weren't picking up your phone, so Jamie and I tracked your scent. It led us here."

"Go figure," I say, rubbing the water from my eyes. At this point it is impossible to tell if this water is vomit-induced tears or regularly-induced tears or water dripping from the rain barrels pushed up against the alley wall. My stomach isn't burning any more, but all my muscles are achey, and the edges of my vision still blur when I look at things for too long. It sort of feels like a bad hangover, if holy water can get you hungover. "I don't imagine my scent would lead you to McDonald's, or something. Unless I smell like a Big Mac, somehow."

Midge rolls her eyes. "We just found you passed out in an alley at nearly one in the morning, all by yourself, all in the cold. Now is not the time to be sarcastic."

I raise an eyebrow. "There is never a bad time for sarcasm, shortcake."

She scowls at me. "Are you drunk?"

I feign offense. "No. Are you?"

Midge huffs. "Grey, you need to tell us what happened."

Tell you what, it's a crazy end to an even crazier day. I started today at work at the teahouse, and now I'm ending it in the alleyway between two bar-and-grills, after being technically poisoned by my uncle. I would like to tell you that I saw all this coming, but by hell, I did not.

I lean back against the alley wall, hugging my knees to my chest. God, it's freezing. I'm freezing. Uncle Ozzie didn't give me time to get my jacket, so I'm out here in just my jeans and a thinly-woven sweater. I wouldn't be surprised if all my limbs are blue. "My uncle..." I shake my head, moving strings of wet hair back from my face. Did it rain? Is it raining? Has it really been five hours? Am I alive? What is alive? "My uncle slipped holy water into my drink."