you were perfectly fine

she wondered how she was going to handle standing up. laying in bed she could sense that it was really going to have to be a triumph of the will. it hurt to think about it. her drinking muscles really over exerted themselves the night before. maybe putting both her feet on the floor first while keeping the rest of her body horizontal for a bit would make the transition easier. vertical was not going to be fun.
she lay in her half vertical for a bit. contemplating her hangover. she seemed coated in a dull sense of shame that she couldn't quite place.
maybe if she kind of rolled her torso up to a sitting position she could think more clearly.
she heard him in the kitchen. it might just be best to bite the bullet and waddle out.
her mouth tasted ... unpleasant.
she sat down across from him at the table and put her head in her hands.

she: man, i got wasted last night.
he: yeah. i don't know how. you didn't have that much to drink...
she: yes i did.
he: me too.
she: i have this weird feeling. like i may have tried to make out with your ex.
he: if i had to make an educated guess, she was probably trying to make out with you.
she: huh...you think?
he: ummm, yeah.
she: ...that's cool...
he: ...i've gotta stop dating lesbians.