“Alex,” she murmured in the dark. I turned my head around to face her. “S’lucky to have you.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re the best. In the whole wide world.”

“I know I am. Go to sleep, okay?”

“Alex.”

I fought back a sigh. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for not bringin’ me home,” she whispered, a trace of fear in her voice. “I really didn’t wanna go. I didn’t wanna—”

“Con, hey. It’s okay, alright? Tell me tomorrow, hmm? Just go to sleep now.”

A short moment passed by before she answered. “Yeah. Night, Al.”

“Goodnight, Connie.”

* * * *

When I finally stirred awake Connie was sitting upright next to me with her head in her hands. I groaned into the pillow, stretching out my arms until my shoulders popped. Stealing a glance at my watch on the bedside table, I saw that it was nearly noon. I sat up with a yawn and rubbed at my eyes before throwing Connie a cautious glance.

“Morning,” I said tentatively. She grunted in response. “How’s the head?”

“I think I might be dying.” She lifted her head, somehow managing to look even worse than she had the night before. “Fucking hell.”

“Are you…okay?”

“Clearly not,” she snarked. “But…I’ll be fine.”

“Do you wanna tell me what happened last night? You never get that drunk.”

“Yeah, no shit. Christ, I feel so ill.”

“Do you even remember the night?”

“Depressingly clearly,” she sighed, before she flopped down onto the pillows. “Thanks—for yano. Making sure I was okay. Getting me home alive.”

“You were pretty set on not going back to your own house. Everything alright?”

“Fine. I just didn’t want Emily to see me like that.”

“Emily? Why would Emily care? She’s seen you drunk before. She literally buys us drink. I didn’t think she cared.”

“Oh, she doesn’t. I just…I dunno. I didn’t want her to see me that bad. She’d just…compare me to Mam, I guess. I just didn’t want to listen to her. Plus, she’d probably tell Dad. Christ, I shouldn’t have had so much to drink.”

“Does your dad not know you drink?”

“He does. He’s not a complete moron. But he doesn’t…I guess he just doesn’t want us to grow up like her. I mean—she’s a bleedin’ waste of space but with him it, I dunno, comes from a place of love, or whatever. He worries about us.”

I nodded in understanding.

“What did you even do last night, anyway? I don’t remember seeing you very much.”

“I was talking to Julia for most of the night.”

“McMahon?”

“Yeah.”

“How lovely.”

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a long minute. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t help but feel oddly guilty. Connie wasn’t looking at me, choosing instead to stare blankly ahead of her. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“What?”

“Julia. She’s pretty. In an unconventional way.”

“Is she? Oh. Oh, I guess so. I didn’t—well, I didn’t really notice.”

“You know that she’s gay, don’t you?” I chose not to answer, merely nodding. After a moment Connie grunted again. “I should probably head home.”