“I smell like pizza.” I’m trying to wiggle out of my skirt, but I lose my balance and fall onto my bed. “Everything is so hard.”

“You’re a mess.” Asher is wrestling to pull down my blankets and sheets.

“I know,” I cry. “Take off my skirt.”

“No,” he says.

“C’mon, someone has to see my sexy underwear. I don’t want them to go to waste.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Fine,” I say. “At least get my chapstick. My lips are so dry. They hurt. I can’t have my lips cracking, Asher. I’ll look—”

“Oh my God, you’re giving me a headache,” he snaps. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The chapstick, Olivia!”

“Oh,” I laugh. “It’s on my nightstand.”

I’m buried in my mountain of pillows and I’m so comfortable and I’m so sleepy that I’m not even bothered that Asher is knocking pens and hair ties and bottles of water onto the floor. He looks so bemused. So out of his element. I giggle.

Until he pulls open the drawer.

“No! Betsy!”

The tips of his ears are turning red and he’s staring at her and all I can think to do is slam the drawer shut. Right on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck!” he screams. “Fucking fuck fuck fuck!”

He’s cradling his hand to his chest as he falls onto the bed next to me, wailing like he’s just been shot.

“Shhh,” I hiss.

“You broke my finger.”

“I did not,” I giggle.

“I think I’m dying.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“This isn’t funny, Olivia, I’m in pain.”

“Of course,” I say. “Would you like me to kiss it better?”

“What I want is for you to lie down and stop making my life so—”

“What are you doing to her?” Joey is standing in my bedroom with a broom in her hand.

“What am I doing to her? The better question is what is she doing to me?”

Joey swats his leg with the handle.

“Ow!” he cries. “Why am I being attacked?”

“Why are you trying to take advantage of a drunk girl?”

“I’m not.”

“Sure looks like you are.” She hits him again. “Get out of here before I get my mace.”

“Joey.” I’m trying very hard not to laugh. “He’s not. It’s Asher. You know Asher. He’s a… he’s a good person. Not always nice and he doesn’t smile a lot but, y’know, still cute. Like a grumpy cat.”

I don’t think she believes me, so she hits him again.

“Stop.”

“Leave.”

“With pleasure!”

Joey keeps a watchful eye as Asher stumbles out of our apartment. I fall asleep before I hear the door close.

8

Asher does not look happy to see me.

But in his defense, when I looked into the mirror this morning, I wasn’t very happy to see me either.