Starts with a Match

Drunk Home Decorating

There's sunrise cutting right over my face. That doesn't make a lick of sense. I should not be awake early enough for sunrise after the amount I drank last night and how late I stayed up.

I swipe a hand at my bedside table and go for a water bottle. Instead, I hit glass, something framed, and it falls to the floor. My groan is ugly and scratchy when I roll over to squint down. Picture, on the ground, fluffy strings of white rug coming up around the frame. Don't recognize those people. Or this rug?

I sit up on my elbow then and frown. Twinkle lights on the metal bed frame, soft gray sheets and a navy blue comforter. Pictures on the walls, a leaning mirror covered in scarves.

I'm in Toby's room. They're not in here.

Immediately I'm scrambling off the bed, just for my hungover brain to slap around in my skull and toss my ass back onto the mattress.

I try again, slower, focusing on the line of dress uniform I left from the door to the bed. I'm in only my boxers.

At least I didn't strip into nothing and sleep naked in their sheets, that would've been weird.

Where the hell is Toby? I can't tell if both sides of the bed had been slept in, cause I was starfishing the entire full-sized mattress, making a mess of all their pillows.

But. Okay, so no Toby. So...

I sway back on my heels. Mission: find the photo of me that I mailed them.

One shaky step forward, another, and I'm in front of their desk. Apron for work hangs off the back of their chair, on top of that peachy sweater they bought at the mall. I turn to the rest of the room, squinting at the sun coming from the dresser.

Wait, not sun. It's that fucking sunrise lamp. I thump over and slap my hands at the buttons. I get birds chirping, a random radio station, and I hiss when I accidentally make it brighter. Finally get the thing to chill out, and it dims, leaving me surrounded by dim, pink light.

Now that I'm not being blinded, I see the photo of me pinned to a bulletin board. They printed out the one I sent them via text in Frankfurt, too.

Both are next to a happy looking couple. Older, gray hair by the temples. They have Toby's smile, that crinkly one that makes their eyes close. There's a guy and a girl that look like them, too, and an empty space.

I'm assuming the horrid Melanie Fenner may have gotten her photo up here at one point.

I nod like I've discovered some grand thing. So I'm on a bulletin board with their family and friends, so what. I've got a new mission now.

Where's the vibrator?

No—no, dude, no, don't go snooping in their drawers, that's fucked up. Especially if they're up already, making breakfast, waiting on me. Asshole move, Kevin.

Instead I pick up the picture I smacked off the bedside table, making sure it's not scratched. What I thought were 'people' is just one person. Little old lady with two long braids over her shoulders, sitting on a park bench wearing a wide, crinkly grin. Makes me smile. "Hi, Kit-kat," I say under my breath. Nice to meet you, ma'am.

Attempting to take a steadying breath, I moan at the smell of cherry somewhere. Just when I think I'm past that, every time, it stings back into my nose. Stupid. Nightmares while awake.

I go to find Toby, trying to think back to why I'm in their room. What happened last night...

Seya scared the shit out of me. That happened. Found Jim as he was outing to our friends that he and Beth were having a baby. Then they made out in the middle of the dance floor.

Not a single person was wearing a mask as soon as the awards were over. I didn't even bother with mine, not with how wet and useless it was. Still shaking, I kept looking for Toby, needing a hug or a slap across the face to root me back to reality.

Found them at the bar. They turned and grinned at me and put a drink in my hand. It was empty before they'd gotten their own.

Then it...gets blurry.

Chaos. I remember sheer chaos.

We hadn't had a military ball in a couple years, so no one recalled how to act polite and orderly. There was crowd surfing, body shots, someone's spouse got tired of her long dress and cut it off with her husband's pocketknife. I took my jacket off, rolled up my sleeves, so did Toby. They laughed at my pit stains; I rubbed my face on their forehead.

How long have I been standing in the bathroom? I peed like thirty minutes ago. I don't even wanna look at my reflection, I know I look like shit.

I start to go down the hall when I pause, thumping into the wall.

Elijah's portrait is on my wall. And Margie's. Hung up horribly crooked. Did we steal those—oh my God, we did. In Toby's jacket, snickering and tripping into each other as we ran from the hotel to our uber. I laugh now and it makes my head throb.

"Toby?" I croak, checking the kitchen. House is dark, quiet. Living room empty, no reading lamp on, no food being cooked. So peaceful like this.

But I miss my chatter box.

I check the garage, nothing. I hunch in the living room for a solid five minutes until I'm sure I'm not about to puke. Only one place left to check. Though why'd they be there, I have no idea, unless we both came home so drunk that we split ways the wrong way—and—

Toby's in my bed. Curled up into a ball, kicked off the blankets. They stumbled out of their nice pants, it looks like, sleeping in only boxers and their dress shirt. So small. Hands up by their chin. Thumb has a band-aid on it. Probably from us hanging up those pictures, doing drunk home decorating at God knows when o'clock.

I take two steps into my room just to take one back. I do that three times, until I'm by the bed side. There's a strand of hair clinging to their lashes. It's just begging to be moved off their face. I did it so easily last night. Now my hands are shaking.

I use only one finger. My smallest one, trailing it down the piece of hair, pulling it away from their face and behind their ear. Toby stirs then, nuzzles further into my pillow and takes a deep breath in. "Kev?"

"Yeah, Fritzy?" Yeah, baby.

"Can we...have coffee cakes?" Toby mumbles as I bring the blankets back over their shoulder.

My chuckle pulls a tiny smile from them, and I have to turn and walk toward the door, afraid if I don't, I'd bend at the waist and kiss their forehead. And, as woozy as I am, I'm pretty sure I'd fall right on top of them.

"Coming right up, Toby."

I get back a sleepy, "Yaaaay...." and I have to bring them coffee cakes in bed cause they fell sleep again.