***
The next morning I wake up with a raging hangover. It’s not exactly how I thought I’d ease into my thirties but then again, it’s par for the course by now. Of course, I used to be able to polish off a bottle of white wine and some cocktails without feeling too bad but now I’m hurting. Maybe hangovers are more of a bitch to deal with in your thirties.
On the plus side, I don’t wake up to anyone I regret. Aaron is sleeping soundly beside me, his snoring soft, and I spend a few bleary-eyed moments staring at him as I try to wake up.
He really is a great-looking specimen. It’s as if God decided to create a man who was destined to model surfboards and swimwear and that’s how Aaron came to be. He is tanned and smooth nearly everywhere. He doesn’t even manscape, though I know it’s popular among his model friends, because his body hair is dark blonde and usually bleached from the sun, and his shaggy hair has all these perfect highlights. His eyes are the kind of green that make you do a double-take and they shine with the clarity of jade.
He’s full of easy-going, boyish charm. He’s full of fun and games. He’s full of youth and possibility.
I am lucky, I really am.
Is it wrong that I have to keep telling myself that?
I slowly ease out of bed and go into the bathroom, the only en-suite in the house. I splash cold water on my face and examine my pores for a few moments before swallowing two Advil dry. I have a few beauty products stored in the medicine cabinet so I rub on some tinted moisturizer and swipe cream blush on my lips and cheeks. I still look like I was hit by a truck.
When I’ve slipped on one of his checkered shirts and pulled on a pair of boxers, I make my way downstairs and blink in surprise when I see a bunch of people passed out all over the place. The last thing I remember from last night was blabbing to Penny about how much I love Michael Keaton as Batman before someone must have ushered me off to bed.
Penny herself is sleeping on one of the couches, with James on the floor right beneath, lying on a bunch of coats. The other couch is occupied by Dan. I don’t see Linden anywhere and wonder how he got home. I can’t really remember him leaving except feeling acute disappointment when he did.
I have to say I’m a bit relieved. From the weird tension between us earlier it wouldn’t have been very good if he did stick around. Maybe I would have been talking to him about Michael Keaton instead of Penny and then what would have happened? Drunk thirty-year old Stephanie might be a force to be reckoned with.
In the kitchen I put on a giant pot of coffee and am done drinking my first cup, between bites of a browned banana, by the time everyone else stirs. They all gravitate toward me like zombies, reaching with outstretched limbs for the coffee mugs, mumbling incoherently, their faces pale.
Penny’s heavy eye makeup from last night is smudged all over her face but she’s the most chipper of the lot.
“So, when are we going camping?” she asks me.
“What?” My brain turns over on itself to try and figure out what she’s talking about. It’s slow going.
“Last night, we talked about how awesome camping is and that we should go on a couples camping trip.” She looks at James. “Don’t you remember?”
He nods though he’s frowning much like I am. Man, I must have been pretty drunk to be talking about camping.
Penny goes on. “Anyway I was thinking more about it this morning-“
“You just woke up,” James tells her.
“And,” she continues, “I think I know just the place. Have you ever heard of Sea Ranch, just south of Mendocino?”
“Yeah, of course,” I tell her. Sea Ranch is like this rustic resort right above the angry Pacific. I’d never been but had often passed by the area on the few times I’ve gone up Highway One.
“My co-worker has a vacation rental there and we could easily use it for a weekend. I think we should all go.” She quickly eyes Dan. “Except for you, Dan, because you’re single and I don’t know you. But everyone else. You and Aaron, me and James and Linden and Nadine.”
Dan shrugs and pours himself a cup of coffee, seemingly glad to not be included in this messy bunch.
“I don’t know,” James says warily. His hair is sticking out from all directions, like it’s hungover too.
“Oh come on,” Penny says, elbowing him in the gut. “It would be really cheap, maybe even free, and fun.”
“It’s not really camping though,” I point out, not sure how I feel about the whole thing either.
She scrunches up her nose, displaying her septum ring that matches James’s perfectly. “We’re all beyond camping at this point. This is how grown-ups camp.”