You & I

"I think we've found your limit."

"I'm not drunk!" I protested, but the glance at the lovely collection of glasses at the bar told me otherwise. "Not really."

"It's kinda hard for me to believe that when you're telling me porky pies."

"It's the mother-lickin' truth," I grumbled. I had been growing increasingly annoyed as we went around in circles. It was killing my happy buzz.

"I love you Gracie, but you'll have to forgive me if I find the tale of your friendship with Chris Evans a little hard to believe."

Tara pushed aside her skepticism long enough to order more shots.

When Tara suggested going out to toast her undue arrival, I told myself that it would be a two drink affair. Just two. And maybe a couple of shots if she forced me.

Fast forward to the next morning and I wake up drunk. Yes, you heard correctly my friend.

I have developed this condition where I can only pass out sleep for a couple of hours before my body goes on blurry alert. The massive negative to this is the fact I won't have been asleep long enough to pass the worst of alcohols awful tendencies, and in essence I'm still drunk, or tipsy. Who the hell wakes up tipsy anyway?

Falling out of bed was the easy part. Crawling to the shower on my hands and knees was a mission I could have done without. Precious water and the sobering effects that came with it called out to me.

I don't know how long I was standing under the water, but my fingertips went wrinkly. Don't you hate when that happens? It's like seeing what your hands will look like in 30 years. When I finally mustered the willpower to vacate the shower. I pulled on some shorts and a hoodie, towel dried my mane of hair and scrubbed my teeth for the umpteenth time. Boy do I love that morning after shower.

Being in no fit state to make my bed, or pick up any of the clothes I'd discarded when I stumbled in last night, I picked up a peculiar item off the floor and went to see if Tara was ready to greet the world. Surprisingly, I found her in the kitchen, with her head in the fridge. When she emerged she was holding a bottle of cola. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, and her eye make-up had smudged into panda style, making her look like Robert Smith's blonde haired doppelganger.

"Why do I have a pirate hat?" I asked her, holding up my treasure.

Tara cast a dark look at me and took in the image of the pirate hat in my hands. Actually, I don't think she was giving me a 'dark look', it just seemed more menacing because of all the smudgy eye make-up.

"You stole it off some guy who was at a bachelor party. The two of you then drank a shitload of rum and did pirate impressions."

"Oh dear lord," I groaned, pulling the hat down onto my head anyway. "I've just had a flashback."

"I'm going back to sleep. Wake me up in time for my next birthday." Tara headed back to the couch, handing me a glass of caffeine and sugar high cola as she shuffled past.

I was considering taking Fudge out for some fresh air, when the buzzer went. From under a mountain of blankets, Tara groaned at the irritating sound. I took my time walking over to the panel, wanting to check who it was before I, maybe, let them in. There wasn't anyone there, meaning someone had already let them in or they had left. If it was the former I was going to be pissed, the residents in my building just let every Tom, Dick or Harry in and then liked to complain about strangers wandering around.

Confirmation came with the sound of knocking on the apartment door. It was most likely a delivery man for Helen. The woman ordered a new pair of shoes every week.

Against my better judgement I opened the door - and immediately regretted it. Delivery man it was not. Chris it was. He looked me over and grinned big. Bastard.

Yes Grace, remember that you are annoyed with him. Do not focus on the fact that he looks good. Really, really good.

"Are you going to let me in?" He asked after a minute of me just staring at him dumbly. I moved aside and shut the door behind him so it didn't slam.

"I didn't think you'd be home for another few days."

"Have you been avoiding me?"
- Whoa, how is that a greeting?

"No, I've just been busy," I shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

"Grace." I didn't answer and he stepped closer. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

"Fuck me sideways," Tara gasped. Our focus turned to her, but she was only concerned with the fact Chris was looking at her. She let out this weird squeak and buried back under the safety of the blankets. Probably hoping she would become invisible.

"I just came by to see if you wanted to hang out, but maybe it would be best if we spoke later."

"Can I talk to you?" I asked when he made to leave. "Erm," I glanced at the bulge of blankets on the couch which doubled as Tara. I gestured for Chris to follow me and lead him to my room.

I had clearly Why did I not take five minutes to tidy my room before? I hastily pulled up the bed covers and threw a discarded bra into the laundry bin. When I turned back around, Chris had taken a seat on the bed. "I didn't mean to come off as a bitch. I blame the hangover." Why did he have to sit on the bed? "I have been avoiding you."

"I knew that, I just don't understand why."

Well it was now or never.
"I worked on a magazine shoot the other day for young Hollywood, and it featured an actress called Melody Frances."

Chris sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What did she say?"

"I didn't speak to her directly, but I heard her mention that you guys are dating," I tried to keep my tone indifferent as I shifted awkwardly.

"I met Melody a couple of years ago, we dated for a few months but I broke it off because I wasn't ready for a serious relationship. We bumped into each other recently and-"

"You picked up where you left off. It happens."

"We've only been on a few dates," he said. "I'm sorry Grace, I should have told you."

"It's none of my business who you're dating."

"I should have told you," Chris repeated. "I feel like a complete ass."

"No comment." I shook my head and sat down a foot away from him. He moved closer to give me a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Careful! I'm a delicate lady and you're some sort of huge man beast."

"Man beast? Some people call me a God."

"The God of bullshit?"

He chuckled. Damn, I loved that sound from him, it was so genuine.
"Grace," he said my name in all seriousness and it made me look at him, no matter how badly I wanted to resist. "Promise me that you'll talk to me if there's something bothering you."

Can I talk to you about how best to deal with the crush I have on you? The one that doesn't seem to be going away even though I know we're just friends?

"I promise," I rolled my eyes. "Now will you do me a favour? Go and say hello to Tara."