Page 41 of Brazen Deceits

“Ow. Shit. No nails, Crash. I’m just getting you some water. And maybe a bowl. I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

My hair gets pushed out of my face, a thumb lingering along my hairline. “Promise.”

I relax into my pillows, my eyelids too heavy to deal with, and I drift.

An unknown amount of time later, the nice-smelling thing props me up against him and helps me out of my coat,carefully laying me down again before untying my shoes and pulling them off my feet. Fingers linger on the button of my jeans but disappear. I flop my own hands down, trying to undo the button myself, but the dang thing must be a super stealth fish, because I can’t catch it.

“Fuck. Clara, I’m going to take off your pants so you’re more comfortable, okay?”

“Mmmhmm. No pants. Pants bad.”

My pants vanish, and I sigh, still so hot. “Better,” I say, which is like saying thank you, right?

I feel the nice-smelling thing, which I’m pretty sure is Trips, slide behind me, forcing me to sit up, leaning me against his chest. “Up bad. Bed good,” I grumble.

“I know, but first I need you to drink some water. I also have some crackers and some ibuprofen. Once you eat, drink, and take the pills, you can lie back down.”

“No. I don’t wanna.”

His chest bounces with a bark of laughter. “Of course, you’re going to fight me on this. Come on. Let’s just get it done.”

I frown, but I let him help me drink some water. More water than is classy dribbles down my chin and onto my shirt, but he doesn’t say anything, so I don’t point it out. No need to be extra embarrassed. Should I be embarrassed? I think I should.

“Maybe a little, but I’ve seen worse,” he says. Can he hear my thoughts?

“No, Clara. You’re thinking out loud.”

Oh no! I shouldn’t do that. It’s…bad. Definitely, what’s the word? I just had it…embarrassing! I should be embarrassed. Not cozy.

The nice-smelling-thing-that-is-for-sure-Trips laughs, gently pressing a cracker against my lips, urging me to take a bite. “I’m glad you’re cozy. And I won’t say I mind listening to your inner monologue.”

I should stop thinking. No thinking here.

I eat three crackers and take another sip of water, less of it missing my mouth this time, my eyelids still too heavy. The Trips-cozy wipes my chin. “Say, Clara, how are you feeling?”

I take stock, wanting to answer right. “Heavy. I’m heavy.”

“Not so heavy, Crash. Do you think you’re going to puke?”

I wiggle my head just enough to say no without the room spinning.

“Glad to hear it.”

He feeds me another cracker, and this one actually tastes like something. Salty. It’s salty.

His chest puffs up like he’s going to talk. “I’m curious, why get so drunk? Why tonight?”

I try to put together words, but thoughts are wibbly wobbly. “Scared,” I say.

“Clara, I’m fairly certain you’re not scared of anything, even if you should be.”

I shake my head again, trying to be clear. “I’m fucking shit up.”

“What shit?”

“This.” I try to motion around me, but I don’t think I manage it very well.

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