In the morning, holding two cups of coffee from the café down the street, my head splitting open from my hangover, I gaze at the wall in the stairwell. Blue was right; she plastered the holes and cracks, sanded them down. The wall is smooth and fine. Blue looks proud.
The foyer of the building smells clean; Blue was standing by a sopping mop and bucket when I got back with the coffees. She’d done the work on the walls the day before; now she was cleaning the hallway and foyer to get a good look at the hardwood floor, see what sort of sanding work might need to be done. She was remarkably fresh after a long night of drinking.
I don’t think she remembers last night. I’m sure Riley doesn’t. It took all my strength when I went out for coffee not to go in the opposite direction and turn the corner and walk up his porch steps and—
Sweat glows faintly on her forehead. “What can you do with an English major?” she asks. “Apparently, this.” She laughs, making a funny face.
“UW-Madison,” she says sharply. “I’m not a total loser, Charlotte.”
“I know that, Blue. I think this is pretty cool.”
“This is your big day! Are you excited?” She takes one of the coffee cups and sips gratefully. “Fuck, my head.”
I nod. “Yeah, I am.” I think about it some more, pushing thoughts of Riley away. “I am, I really am excited.”
“Cool. You should be. Meet me here later and we’ll walk over to the gallery together?”
“Yes, sure thing. I’m gonna go take a nap before work, okay?”
Blue salutes me and I head up to the room. My stomach is in knots, though. I’m still upset about the fight with Riley, and wondering if he’ll even be at home, or come to the show later. We feel unfinished somehow, and I don’t like it.
