December 24, 2014
6:30am
208 India Street, Brooklyn, NY
The sound of the alarm clock going off next to my ear literally annihilates me. My brain is throbbing, or at least it feels that way. Is that possible? Can your brain throb, and if it can, is that a sign that you should seek medical attention? Should I be in the ER right now? Is my brain going to start dripping out of my ears?
Get a grip, Mags
I drank too much last night. That's right. The bottle of Pinot did me in after I was half way through and I can't remember exactly when I finished it, or when I blacked out. I remember feeling hot, and heading to the shower at some point, but I don't remember taking my clothes off.
Wait.
Did I fall asleep in the shower?
My alarm clock is whacked into silence, but I'm not the one who did it. Did I do it with my brain? Maybe it's not throbbing, but swelling. Maybe the wine gave me super powers?
I must still be drunk.
I open my eyes more than just a crack. The light filtering in through my window curtains makes my brain throb that much more, but I know I have to get moving. It may be Christmas Eve, but we're always expected to come into the office for a few hours. We usually get our bonus pay today.
I won't be getting a bonus, needless to say.
I sigh and attempt to turn over so I can look at the time. I find that it's hard to move, partially because of the hangover, but there's more to it than that. Something is pressed up against me. It's warm and surrounding me at the waist. Tangled in the covers. Wow, I'm a mess right now. I reach out to pull the comforter off of me, but I quickly realize it's not that at all when I feel warm flesh against my finger tips.
I scream.
"Whoa!"
"Get off! How the hell did you get in here you freak!" I break away from the grasp this sicko has around my waist. Oh my God a rapist. It's not the best area of Brooklyn, but I thought my locks were a decent quality.
Did I forget to lock the door? No, I never do that. He must have picked the lock, yeah. Oh shit.
"I have mace!" I scream, frantically throwing open the drawer to my nightstand and retrieving the bottle. "I'm not afraid to use it!"
"Maggie! What the hell! It's me!"
I turn, bottle raised in the air, aimed right at him. It takes me just seconds to realize who it is, and I can't do anything else but lower my weapon and stare.
Justin is kneeling on the bed, holding his hand over his right eye where I probably just whacked him. He's in his undershirt and boxer shorts.
What in holy hell is going on?
"Justin?"
"Good guess." He groans and stumbles out of the bed.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
He laughs slightly as he heads into the bathroom. "You really don't remember anything from last night do you?"
I cautiously follow behind him, my breath quickening, my heart racing. God, oh God...we didn't...we couldn't have...
Right?
"What should I remember," I croak, while he soaks his face with water from the sink. My gaze lands on the pile of crumpled bedding in the corner. I can see the vomit stains from the night before all over the comforter. Great.
"You, drunk in the bathtub. Me, getting your act together for you." He turns the water off and wipes his face with a nearby towel. "I came by because you weren't answering your phone, and when you wouldn't come to the door, I decided to use the spare key you gave me to check on you. It's a good thing I did. You were passed out in the tub with your clothes on, and probably would have let that shower rain down on you all night."
"I'm dry." I feel my cheeks burning. I couldn't have possibly gotten undressed by myself, I know I was that much of a mess.
He sighs and clears his throat. "I helped you change. It was quick and I didn't touch you...or anything. It's what any decent friend would have done."
"You went on a date though. I remember that. I remember telling you to go."
“Yeah well, I went, but I ditched her."
"Why?"
"I wasn't interested."
"So you took an hour subway ride here instead?"
"You didn't answer your phone, and I was worried about you."
"Why?"
"I need a reason? You're a friend of mine. A good one."
"I was naked?"
"For a minute."
"You saw me?"
"Mhm."
"But we didn't--"
"No...I never would have...just...nothing happened, okay?" He looks away from me and scratches the back of his head, an obvious sign that he's uncomfortable. "Once you were settled I was going to head out, but you asked me to stay, so I did."
"I asked you to stay?"
"Yeah, I mean, you were really drunk." He laughs at me. "You've been in a bad place lately, and I didn't think leaving you alone last night was the best idea. It didn't occur to me that you would wake up and think a serial killer had made his way into your bed. I'm sorry that I scared you."
"No..." I shake my head. It's not exactly strange, I guess I'm just surprised that Justin would do all of that for me. He's my co-worker and pretty much my only friend now that I'm single. We go out for drinks, occasionally we'll add dinner in, and he even helped me move my things into my new place when I left Hunter. We've never taken our friendship beyond that though. I never invited him to the parties that Hunter and I would throw at our place, and besides his numerous blind dates, he's never talked to me about what goes on in his personal life, what he does on the weekends, or who goes with him when he takes vacations. I'd say we have a business friendship with a little casualness built into it, but that's all it's been.
Up until now, anyway.
Would I do what he did for me last night? Without a doubt, yes, and it concerns me, because I've never thought about it before today.
He's not just my only friend, he's my best friend.
"What's the level of permanent damage," he smiles. "Are we still going to be happy hour buddies?"
"There's no permanent damage done." I reassure him, forcing a smile even though it hurts my head to do it. "Just---everything is normal right? With us?"
"Sure." He shrugs, but won't look me in the eye. "Nothing is going to change, I just did you a favor. That's it. We don't have to linger on it, Mags. You can repay me during happy hour next week. Drinks are on you."
"Deal." I say it softly.
We take turns showering and avoid any conversation that will lead back to the events of last night. Justin helps me pack up my bedding so we can drop it off at the cleaners down the block, and we grab a quick round of coffee and pastries before catching the subway into Manhattan. Despite my hangover, things become a lot less awkward as we laugh and joke about our bosses, case loads, and the craziest clients we've had this year. This is the best part of our friendship, being able to vent to each other about work and life, and I'm so glad he's mature enough not to dwell on last night. It was just a fluke, after all. When the holidays are over, he'll resort to dating random women again and I'll go back to working triple overtime in hopes of pleasing the bosses.
Nothing will change.
"So what are you doing for Christmas? Do your folks live around here?" Justin asks, as we walk the twelve blocks from Penn Station to the office.
This is the first year I haven't been so busy planning out the next few days with Hunter that I've had the chance to talk to Justin about my Christmas plans. Over the last eight years, Hunter and I have switched off spending the holidays with my family and his. I've always worked late Christmas Eve, and Hunter has physically dragged me out of the office by nine or ten o'clock at night so we could make the drive and arrive by morning to open presents.
This was supposed to be the year with my family, naturally. My mother has asked me every question under the sun about the reasons Hunter and I couldn't work out our problems, and I have yet to give her the perfect answers. Meanwhile, my father has said that if I bring Hunter around again he's going to be sorry, and my perfect sister has just told me that I'll eventually find someone else. I've told them more than once that I'll be staying in the city this holiday. That I need time alone.
Naturally they don't understand. Christmas has always been a staple in our family. I was raised in a traditional household. My father and mother own their own Florist Shop in downtown Boston. They've done the floral displays for many of Boston's most elaborate weddings, and when my sister and I were growing up, we never wanted for anything. Still, the money they made was never enough to give me a full ride to Harvard. Most of my education was paid for in grants and scholarships. I was a damn workaholic in school, similar to how I am now. I had a couple of girlfriends who were just as serious about school as me, but I never fit in with the popular kids. That was my sister's specialty. She was a cheerleader, homecoming queen, all of that. I didn't go to my prom while she made hers into the event of the century, dragging my mom and I from one dress shop to the next. She married her high school sweetheart too, and they have a perfect little existence in suburban Boston. She stays home with the kids, while I bust my ass morning noon and night. Things have always seemed to come easier for her.
I don't hate her though. We just don't relate to each other well, and we've never been close. We're more like acquaintances. When I come home she barely reacts. As for my niece and nephew, they're spoiled rotten to the core by her, their father, and my parents. Nothing I seem to do for them is ever good enough, so I've simply stopped trying so hard and get them board games for Christmas instead. When I was with Hunter, going home for Christmas seemed more enjoyable, I suppose, because he could keep the conversation flowing between us and my family. I've never been good at that.
My parents were so excited that I was going to get married and start a life like my sister. It's silly, but I keep thinking that I've let them down. I don't want to face them, or their questions about our breakup. It's easier to just stay away this Christmas, and get myself together.
"My family lives in Boston, but I think I'm going to take the extra time and catch up on some paperwork," I finally say. If nothing else, I owe him the truth right now.
"That's a crappy way to spend a holiday."
I shrug, and take a sip of my coffee. "It's just a day. It's not the end of the world. If I went home, all my parents would do is pester me about Hunter. I'm not really in the mood."
"Yeah, but still, it's Christmas. I doubt Hunter is spending it alone, or at work."
No, Hunter definitely won't be alone this Christmas. He'll be with his love affair, forgetting about me, his would be fiancé. I feel the emotions building up inside of me, refusing to go away, but I can't afford to fall apart right now. Last night was a mess, and I'm trying to just...work through it so I can get back on top again.
"Let me handle it how I need to, Justin." We reach the building and I push my way through the revolving door, knowing he's right behind me. "It's not your place to worry about me this much. I'm sure you have a lot of great things lined up for tonight and the rest of the week, and I want you to enjoy them."
"I don't want to see you spend Christmas like that." He stops in the middle of the lobby and gently pulls on my shoulder so I'll turn back to him. “You don’t deserve it, Mags. It’s the worst time of year to be on your own."
"I'm a big girl. Besides, it’s a good opportunity to it show Fink and Harrison that I'm not giving up."
"Fink and Harrison don't care if you're here on Christmas. It doesn't make a difference to them.”
"Justin," I sigh. "Let it go."
"Come on--"
“What do you suggest I do?” I say it forcefully. “Sit alone in my apartment? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go!”
He stares back at me for several moments. The look in his eyes seems to want to tell me something...something more. I feel the curiosity pulling at me, but that gaze of his quickly vanishes and is replaced with one of defeat.
“What is it?”
He shakes his head and miserably shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess I'll just see you upstairs."
He walks away from me and I let him. I don't get it. He looked so defeated, like he'd just lost a battle with himself. What kind of battle though, and why is it so important to him that I don't spend Christmas on my own? I'd ask him, but I feel like it would just make things even more awkward, and after last night, we can't afford it. If we couldn't be friends anymore I think that would put the final stake in my heart, because he's the only one who listens, the only one who really understands me, now that Hunter is gone.
I need him.
I guess I never realized just how much, until now.
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