Harriet scoffed as she downed another gulp of whiskey, feeling the burn slide down her throat. She ran her fingers through her hair and glanced at Zoey, whose face was slowly turning a deep shade of red from the alcohol. A soft laugh escaped Harriet as she shrugged, still baffled by the turn of events.
"Why am I even here with this woman?" she muttered under her breath, pouring herself another glass of whiskey. The surrealness of it all still hadn't fully sunk inâwhat were the odds that she'd meet someone who had also lost loved ones in that same accident? She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the confusion, and then stood up.
"Hey, Zoey, you need to go home. It's past midnight," Harriet said, reaching for Zoey's glass.
Zoey pouted, her eyes narrowing as if Harriet had just taken away her favorite treat. "You're no fun."
Harriet chuckled, shaking her head. "Listen, for your information, I'm not carrying you home if you get too drunk. So while you still can, go home."
Zoey groaned dramatically, but after a beat, she sighed and nodded. "Fine, fine. You're such a buzzkill." She stood up unsteadily, and Harriet couldn't help but smirk at Zoey's tipsy state.
"Get home safe, alright?" Harriet said, a trace of concern in her voice despite the teasing. Harriet couldn't help but laugh as she watched Zoey sway unsteadily on her feet. It was both amusing and a little concerning. After pulling out enough cash to cover their drinks, Harriet tucked her wallet back into her pocket and followed Zoey out of the bar.
Walking beside her, Harriet tried to hold back her grin, but when Zoey's wobbling became more noticeable, she stepped in. Without a word, Harriet looped Zoey's arm around the back of her neck and slipped her hand around Zoey's waist to support her.
Zoey stopped walking and blinked at Harriet in confusion. "Hey, what are you doing?" she slurred, looking up at her with glassy eyes.
"Helping you, of course. If something bad happens to you and the authorities find out I was the last person you were with, I really don't want to be a suspect. Call it being practical." Harriet chuckled, steadying Zoey with a firmer grip.
Zoey let out a laugh, though it was more of a tired, tipsy giggle. "Practical, huh? Sure, whatever." She didn't protest further, leaning a bit more into Harriet's hold as her dizziness seemed to catch up with her.
Harriet raised an eyebrow, glancing around the parking lot. "Where's your car, Zoey?"
Zoey squinted, trying to recall. "Uh... over there, I think?" she mumbled, pointing vaguely toward the back of the lot.
Harriet ushered Zoey toward the spot she had pointed to, but as they reached it, she turned to Zoey with a furrowed brow. "Where's your car key?"
"Oh, right," Zoey blinked, rummaging through her sling bag. Just as she found the key, a sudden wave of nausea hit her. "Wait," she managed, pressing a hand to her mouth as her stomach churned.
Concern flickered in Harriet's eyes. "What is it?"
Before Harriet could react, Zoey gently pushed her away, panic rising in her voice. But it was too late. The contents of Zoey's stomach came rushing out, splattering across Harriet's hoodie.
Harriet shut her eyes, a hiss escaping her lips as she tried to keep her cool. "Oh, fucking great," she muttered, looking up at the night sky as if seeking patience from the universe.
Zoey gasped, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean toâ"
Harriet waved a hand dismissively, though she couldn't hide her irritation. "It's fine," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, even as she fought the urge to grimace at the mess. "Just... let's get you home."
Zoey rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust her vision. As she covered her face with the blanket, she noticed something strangeâit smelled different from her own. Puzzled, she glanced at the blanket before uncovering her face to take in her surroundings.
Her eyes widened as she sat up. "Where am I?" she muttered, realizing she was not at home. Confused, she looked down at herself and discovered she was wearing an oversized shirt.
Driven by curiosity, she reached for the bedroom door. Upon stepping into the hallway, she heard the chime of the main door, not far from where she stood. She gulped, recognizing the familiar figure approaching.
"Oh, good thing you're awake," Harriet said, wearing a dry-fit jersey and shorts, with a pair of sneakers on her feet. A tennis racket dangled from her right hand, and her hair was pulled into a messy high bun.
Zoey blinked in surprise, tilting her head. Harriet chuckled lightly. "You're in my place. Don't you remember? You passed out on me, so I brought you home." The words echoed in Zoey's mind, but their meaning hadn't fully registered.
"Wait, this is your place?" Zoey asked, glancing around in disbelief.
Harriet nodded, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Yes, my place. Why? Do you want me to take you to our family home instead, so your boss can see how drunk her secretary was?"
Zoey's eyes darted around the unfamiliar space, taking in the sleek furniture and the faint smell of something sweet in the air. "I didn't think I'd end up here," she murmured, still processing the events from the night before.
Harriet crossed her arms, leaning casually against the wall. "Well, you did. And don't worry, I made sure you didn't choke on your own vomit or anything dramatic like that," she teased, a playful glint in her hazel eyes.
Zoey couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Thanks for the hospitality, I guess?" she replied, still trying to shake off the remnants of the previous night's revelry.
"Just doing my part as your accidental babysitter," Harriet said, shrugging with a grin. "Now, do you want breakfast? I have cereal, toast, and some questionable leftovers."
"Leftovers sound great," Zoey said, her stomach grumbling slightly at the thought of food. "But I might need a shower first. I feel like a walking disaster."
"Fair enough," Harriet said, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Take your time. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
As Zoey walked toward the bathroom, she couldn't shake the feeling that this morning had a strange sense of normalcyâlike they were just two friends sharing a space rather than the complicated mess of their lives. She took a deep breath, preparing to face the day ahead.