Sunlight floods my room. I shield my face, eyes still closed. A headache has begun, thumping through my temples. Groaning, I think of last night. Loud music. Vodka shots. Cold pizza. And that magical kiss. I open my eyes. Rubbing out the crusts of sleep sand out of my eyes, I try to orient myself in the living room. 

Light finds the dustiest of corners, holding the dust in dense swirls. Two of my friends are asleep on the pull-out sofa, hands dropping off the side of it. I get up from my makeshift bed on the floor and survey the damage. 

The living room is a mess. Bottles of alcohol and disposable cups are lying all around. The plants have been turned over, my favourite lamp lies broken on the floor. The comfy chair has a large red stain on it – blood or food, I don’t know which is worse. My bookshelf is somehow broken and my books are lying in a heap in the corner. And then I see the worst, my cat’s litter box is turned over, its contents spread everywhere.

Upset, I get up. I grab a broom and sweep the floor. Then, I pour out some fresh litter in the box and try to find my cat. He’s not fond of guests, he’s not fond of anybody really. He is definitely hiding under the bed in my bedroom. 

I go to my bedroom and open the door slowly. I tiptoe inside and close the door silently, trying not to disturb the occupant of my bed who is snoring faintly. I get on my knees and look under the bed. I can see my cat’s eyes flashing at me. I try to belly crawl towards him but instead bang my head against the bottom of the bed.

“What? Where?” the girl on the bed calls out.

I get out from under the bed, rubbing the spot where I banged my head. 

“Sorry, I was looking for Max”

“Is he all right?” she asks, her morning voice breaking. 

“Yeah, yeah he is. He’s glowering at me from under the bed. Pretty sure he’s going to scratch my face out when you all leave.”

She laughs, all throaty and sleepy. And then sits upright, hugging the pillow. Her hair is tussled and she’s blinking slowly in the morning light. Last night when she walked into the party, she had a heavenly aura about her. She practically glowed. When we met, I felt a magical connection. It was something I couldn’t explain.

I never imagined a girl would sleep in my bed. Just like last night, I can’t stop looking at her. She looks angelic.

She smiles at me.

“So last night. Great party!” she says.

“Oh yeah. It was, wasn’t it?”

“Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed”

“Anytime!”

And then there’s this awkward silence where we grin at each other stupidly. I break it. 

“I should get back to cleaning the party mess. The damage is excessive.” And I giggle for some reason. 

“I’ll help you!” she offers.

“Thanks!” I say and we make our way to the living room.

“Why don’t you go ahead and freshen up? I need to get Max out of my room. He must be hungry.” I say to her.

“Sure thing”

I go back to my room and look at my reflection in the mirror. Ugh. I’m a mess. I try to comb my hair. How do I look now? Like a serial killer! Oh great. 

I crawl under the bed and get Max out. I dump him near the water bowl. He’s too angry to drink and instead follows me out to the living room.

It takes me a few seconds to register what I see. Everything in my living room is back to where it should be. Even the large red stain from the chair is gone. I walk to my unbroken bookshelf and see that my books have been arranged by genre. Did my room magically clean itself up? I call out for her. She doesn’t answer but my friends sleeping on the sofa wake up.

“Why in the world are you being so loud?”

I check my bathroom. It’s empty. There’s a pot of something pink next to the tap. I pick it up and smell it. It smells like our kiss.

I go out into the living room and sit on the unstained chair sniffing the pot of lip gloss. Max climbs up on the chair and sniffs at it too.

“What the hell were you yelling about earlier?” my friend asks.

I hold up the pot of gloss and say “The only party damage”.

*

She’s watching the whole exchange from above.

Her friend nudges her and says “That one was cute”.

“She certainly was”

“What exactly did you leave for this one?”

“A pot of nostalgia”