All three of them.
The puking.
My heart started racing, like my body had decided we were still in the club and needed to survive. I looked around my room, disoriented, breathing too fast.
“What in the Mamma Mia…” I whispered.
I turned to my side—
—and someone was there… sleeping next to me.
I froze.
My brain, in its fragile, post-alcohol state, made the worst possible assumption.
Which ex is this?
I grabbed the person by the shoulder and flipped them over.
“WHAT?”
Mel’s voice came out like a threat.
She squinted at me, hair a mess, face scrunched in pure irritation of someone who had just been woken up at gunpoint.
“What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, shoving my arm away.
I blinked at her.
Once. Twice. Completely confused.
Then everything rushed back all at once.
It was a sleepover. Of course.
“Oh,” I said, slightly sobering.
Mel groaned and rolled over. “If you wake me up again, I will actually end you.”
I sat there for a second in silence. Then, I heard voices and the unmistakable smell of herbs.
I got out of bed and rushed down the stairs.
When I reached the bottom, I stopped like I had just entered a different dimension.
Andi and Andre were in the kitchen cooking, like this was their apartment.
Andre was at the stove, flipping something in a pan, while Andi was leaning against the counter, sipping what looked like iced coffee, watching her like a bored housewife.
Both of them turned to look at me.
I pointed at them like a crazy person.
“You,” I told Andi. “I saw my exes last night. I’m not hallucinating, am I?”
“Good morning to you too,” she replied, taking another sip.
“You look crazy now though,” Andre added.