The next morning I woke up around 10:30. My right arm was asleep and I couldn't seem to move it. I looked over discovered a body laying on my arm. Who...the hell is that, I thought? She rolled over on her back and I was staring at Roberta. What the hell went on last night? How much did I have to drink? I couldn't remember anything but bits and pieces of the previous evening.Roberta slowing opened her eyes and looked at me. She screamed and jumped out of bed. She screamed again when she realized. How many years had it been now? Ten? No, eleven. Things had changed. I could hardly believe it’d taken me so long to recognise him. But back then, he’d been clean shaven. And not so – fatherly? And he’d never had glasses. Or grey hair. He seemed to have aged a lot in a decade.But it was him. I knew that voice. And the giveaway? The orange juice. His voice tipped in the same way as it always did, the emphasis on the not from concentrate, the way the line rolled off his tongue like he’d made the. More

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