Claire: also Harry stopped vomiting and Kort really wants to get out of the house

Kort: a legitimate cause for celebration

Claire: Can we come over? I feel like we haven’t hung out in a long time and I really am sad about missing last night :(

Kort: okay bitch, you never responded so now claire actually thinks you hate her, good job

Kort: we are coming over to make sure you’re not dead

When I walked back into the living room, Kort was bouncing Harry on her chest, and Claire was sitting at the edge of my favorite chair, frowning.

“So are you okay? You look super tired.”

I flopped onto the couch. “A night at Moonie’s does that to you. You know that.”

Both Claire and Kort’s eyes went wide. In like, the exact same way. Lesbians.

“So you did go?” Claire asked.

“Oh my god,” Kort grinned, “Did you really go and sit by yourself in a corner for like five hours? Because I can totally see you doing that, actually. This is kind of amazing.”

“No, I did not sit by myself in a corner,” I said sharply. At least, not for hours.

“So what happened?” Claire asked.

I draped an arm over my eyes. Tried to hold in a dramatic sigh.

“Okay. So you know that other big group that’s there a lot, that sits at the table right next to the dance floor?”

“Of course.” I could picture Claire’s nod, the trying-to-understand look of concern on her face. “They seem like good people.”

“Oh, and there’s that woman in their group you have a crush on,” Kort said, almost casually. I raised my arm to stare at her in dismay.

“How do you know that?”

“Come on, Sam. You’re always spellbound when she sings. And there was also the fact that the last time we were at Moonie’s, at the end of the night when you were really drunk, you kept talking about how you wanted her to step on your face. Or something. I don’t remember the exact phrasing, but it was entertaining.”

“Oh.” I stared at the ceiling. “I do not remember that.” And then, covering my face again: “Iamsuchanidiot.”

“Waaaait a second.” And now I could picture the look on Kort’s face: predatory. Gleeful. “Sam. What. Happened. Last. Night.”

I thought I knew, I thought.

But right now, in the cold, hungover light of day, I felt at a loss.

“Well. The, uh, woman who I wanted to step on my face invited me to sit at their table, so...I hung out with their group all night.”

“She invited you to sit at their table?” Claire repeated.

“It was fun,” I said weakly. It had been. I was relatively confident on that point.

“Hold up,” Kort said. “Are you telling us you made new friends?”

“Aw!” I could picture Claire’s eyes lighting up. “Sam, you made new friends!”