Hangover

You wake up. Your head pounds. The sun is already high in the sky. Last night is a pleasant blur.

You remember it in bits and pieces and you have to admit, if the wedding is half as much fun as that party, you can’t wait for it.

You itch your wrist as you stumble into the shower. The hot water is soothing and by the time you are done you feel better.

As you towel off, you itch your wrist again. You look down and see a pair of welts. Spider bite, you wonder?

You throw on yoga pants and t-shirt and then head for the kitchen and coffee.

You sip the warm caffeinated drink and try to remember last night. You remember Sara, looking pale and being the perfect host. You remember her co-workers Natasha and Xabra. You have to admit you are a bit jealous of the sexy, model perfect, duo. You recall dancing with them and Sara.

You pull out your cell phone and dial Di. It rings a few times before she answers.

“Hi, Tasha.”

“Hi, Di. So do you remember last night?”

She laughs. “Not really. God, I haven’t let loose like that in a while. I can’t wait for the wedding.”

“I can’t either!”

The odd thing is you aren’t quite sure why you are so excited. Sure, you are happy to see your friend’s special day, but your level of eagerness just seems odd.

“Di, we should drop by and visit Angie and see how she’s doing.”

“Sounds good. I’m taking things slow today anyway. My house in twenty?”

“I’ll be there.”

You pick up Di as planned and head to Angie’s. By the time you get there the sun is just beginning to set.