the thought of eating covers my skin in a new layer of perspiration.
Holding on to the edge of the small bed, I force open my eyes. The small closet-like room around us comes into focus as a rock band plays a drum solo behind my temples. Maybe if I close my eyes, I could go back to sleep. My stomach and this small bed aren’t my only issues. My bladder is screaming for relief, and I seem to recall some loud voices and an order from Marshal to wake him before I leave the room.
Holding on for dear life, I nudge him as I fight for a sliver of the bed. “Marsh.”
I’d considered sleeping on the floor, but decided for the sake of my health and welfare the bed was cleaner. Looking down at the carpeting, I wonder if it’s only covered with dirt and stains or if there are bugs too. Again, I hang onto the edge.
“Marsh,” I try again, this time adding an elbow to his back.
“What?” he says, rolling toward me.
“Whoa,” I say too loudly as I throw back the sheet and spring from the bed. My bare feet squish on the carpet and my nose scrunches. “Marshal.”
With only the sunlight sneaking through the mangled blinds, I see the outline of what just stabbed me and propelled me from the bed. Holy shit, my friend is equipped. I mean, he’s boasted of his prowess since we were freshmen in high school, but I’ve never seen or thought about...
My eyes open and I know I’m staring. “Um.”
I’m thinking about it now. After all, Marshal just prodded my lower back with what appears to be an erect huge dick. Taking my eyes away from my best friend’s equipment tenting his shorts, I look down at the carpet and step to a dry spot, wiping my feet.
The tipped-over Solo cup eases my mind, giving me a clue of what made the carpet wet.
Stale beer is definitely better than other possibilities.
My bladder reminds me of the first reason why I woke. I reach over and shake Marshal’s shoulder.
“Marshal, wake up.”
Marshal’s eyes open. “Sami?”
“Um” —I point to his erection— “do something with that. I need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh. Fuck,” he mumbles as he scrambles from the bed. He’s high-stepping too as he lands in the moist carpet. “Shit,” he says as he looks for a safe place to stand.
Once he’s up—as in standing, since up isn’t his problem—he turns away. I’m many things, but naïve isn’t one of them. I have been with other guys, have a brother, and a male best friend. I can tell he’s adjusting himself. “Sami, shit.”
When Marshal finally turns, his cocky grin, the one he knows will save his ass and has on multiple occasions, is beaming at me. “It’s morning.”
I shake my head.
Finding my phone, I peer down at the screen. “It’s officially afternoon.” My hand goes to my head. “And I feel like shit.”
“Come on,” he says, “I’ll go out with you and see who’s up.”
Even though it’s nearly one in the afternoon, the second floor is dark and quiet. All the doors are closed. When we reach the bathroom, its door is also closed. Marshal tries the doorknob. “Locked.”
I wiggle on my toes, the pressure building.
Marshal reaches for my hand. “Come downstairs.”
There are more signs of life on the first level. Bodies are draped over the sofa and chairs. There are even a few sleeping people on the floor. Either they’re braver than I am, or they were too drunk to care when they finally fell asleep.
Around the corner, there’s a small half bath under the stairs. Miraculously, the door is ajar.
“Hurry,” he says, “I need to pee, too.”
I scrunch my nose as I step inside. “Gross,” I mumble under my breath.
Thirty minutes later, the two of us are sitting on one of the picnic tables outside McDonald’s. I’ve downed two bottles of water and a red Gatorade, and my headache has lessened but is still present. The rock band has been exchanged for a softer jazz drummer, but apparently, the concert isn’t over.
Taking a bite of my breakfast sandwich, I groan. “Jeez, I feel awful.” I lift my large coffee in a mock toast. “Thanks for a great time.”
Marshal grins. “You had a great time.”
“Not waking to that.” I tilt my chin down to what’s under the table.
“I’m a guy. What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me why we had a slumber party again and why we couldn’t at least go