A group of friends tries to piece itself back together after losing its glue.
*****
It's a quiet October morning in Palo Alto, California, when the news break out--June Beaumont was...
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SOFIA
I started the new decade with quite an impressive hangover.
It took me a while to figure out where I was, but I quickly realized I wasn't in my bedroom. Fortunately, I hadn't been tossed to a sidewalk, and I had slept in someone else's room. There was even an arm safely wrapped around me and a steady heartbeat pulsating against my spine.
Even though it wasn't my bedroom, I still felt at home. At that moment, it was everything I could have asked for and more—it was everything I needed.
Then, I remembered just why I had slept in Meridian's dorm room. Memories from last night came flooding into my brain, like a rush of blood to the head as though I was hanging upside down, and I remembered everything, including just how badly I had embarrassed myself in front of him. I remembered what he had told me—June, the key, San Francisco—but I also remembered what I had said to him.
I kind of want to kiss you.
Can I kiss you?
I'd like that. Once you sober up.
I sat up on the bed with a start, electricity jolting my nerves, and it immediately pulled Meridian out of what had probably been the calmest night of sleep he'd had in months. On the other side of the room, his roommate slept peacefully, unaware of the commotion that had just begun.
"Where's the fire?" Meridian mumbled, still half asleep. I was already wide awake by that point, chest heaving like I had just run a marathon, and my pounding headache sent me flying back down to the mattress in no time. "Sofia?"
"I need to brush my teeth," I blurted out, even though that was the smallest of my problems. Granted, my breath smelled horribly after all the alcohol from the previous night, but that wasn't mortifying enough to send my heartbeat into erratic rhythms. "Where do I brush my teeth?"
"Oh, God, will you shut up?" Meridian's roommate groaned, from the other side of the room. He kept one of the pillows over his head, most likely to block his eyes from the faint beams of sunlight entering the room through the small spaces in the blinds. "It's, like, nine in the morning."
"Thank you for your input," Meridian replied. His roommate raised his arm and flashed his middle finger in response. "If you walk down the hallway, you'll find the bathrooms. There are toothbrush and toothpaste dispensers there." He eyed me carefully. "We have our own bathroom in our room, but . . . using our toothbrushes doesn't sound too hygienic."
