I placed a bucket by her bed for the morning and tiptoed down the stairs even though I knew she was dead to the world now, and avoided the pile of puk... on the carpet in the hallway that neither Ryan or I could muster the courage to clear up. “Is she in bed?” he asked softly as he held and ice pack to his eye. She’d punched him in her drunken state and neither of us knew why. “Yeah” I said, struggling to contain my laughter. “It’s not funny!” But even he knew that it was. “How is it then?” I ask. I was glad to see her and even more glad to give her a hug.We spent the day painting, and eventually we picked up a six pack and went to my apartment to hang out. The six pack was by no means the only alcohol there so she had a little too much to drive back to her house. So she spent the night in my bed while I slept on the couch in my room. I woke up in the morning before she did but did not make any noise because I am a gentleman. She must have gotten up in the night and decided that wearing. More

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