Holly went to sleep disgruntled and with her stomach knotted. Sleep provided her with no rest. Instead, she fell into weird and twisted dreams.
Morning came and Holly woke up to her alarm. Despite its piercing tone, it was a welcome relief from her wild imagination.
When she walked into the kitchen, she stopped at the sight of Thatcher leaning over the sink, washing dishes.
“You stayed over?” she said. Thatcher spun on the spot and met her gaze with an unabashed smile.
“Josie and I were thinking, as it’s Sunday… we could spend the day together.”
Holly opened her mouth to react, but Josie bounded in through the front door. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining. She was far too energetic for the morning.
“Oh good. Are you setting up the blender?” she asked Thatcher, who waved a broccoli stalk at her. Josie beamed at Holly. “Morning, sleepy head. Are you feeling okay? I’ve got the perfect hangover cure for you.”
Holly raised her hand and looked at her friend like she had gone mad.
“Hangover? Who said anything about a hangover?”
Josie and Thatcher exchanged looks.
“Oh no. It won’t be that easy,” Holly said, resting her hands on her hips. “I saw you two last night. I wasn’t drunk and I remember everything.”
Josie’s eyes turned into the shape of saucers.
“But Holly… you weren’t wearing any clothes,” she said in a hushed voice. Thatcher walked round from the breakfast bar as Josie took her arm gently.
“You need to sit down and tell us what happened,” Thatcher said. Holly sighed. She begrudgingly recounted the whole date to her friends.
With every detail of her account, Josie and Thatcher reacted appropriately.
They gasped. They rolled their eyes. They laughed. Then when Holly finished, they looked at each other for a long time. As if they had developed the art of telepathy.
“It’s amazing you didn’t get hypothermia,” Josie said in a breathy voice.
“He’s not going to pick me, is he?” Holly said glumly.
Thatcher nodded along.
“Honestly. If I was William? I would run for the hills and never look back,” he said frankly. Josie nudged him in the ribs.
“Not true. It’s… cute. You were being fun and impulsive,” she said. But something about the tone of her voice didn’t convince Holly.
“I asked him if he’d still kiss me If I puked,” Holly wailed, throwing her face into her hands.
“Some guys like that,” Josie said.
“Who? Who likes that?” Thatcher asked. Holly kept her face in her hands but judging by the grunt, she guessed Josie had nudged him again.
The doorbell rang and Holly looked up so fast her neck cracked. Josie jumped up and ran over to the intercom.
“Who is it?”
“It’s William Harrington, I’m here to see Holly Barratt,” a deep voice crackled out of the speaker. Josie glanced back at Holly with an open mouth. Then she spun back to the intercom. “She’ll be right down.”
Holly’s heart jolted. She was still wearing her onesie.
“What are you waiting for? Go!” Thatcher urged. Holly looked at her two friends with disbelief.
“I can’t go like this!” she demanded, gesturing to herself.
“You look adorable, just go. He’s waiting.” Josie tugged on Holly’s hands and pushed her out the door.
Holly descended the steps rubbing last night’s mascara from under her eyes and smoothing out her bed hair.
I have terrible friends. The worst.
She mumbled to herself as she reached the bottom floor but put on a smile as she rounded the corner. The silhouette of a man was standing outside the door.
“Hey there, stranger,” she said brightly as she thrust the door open. Thankfully William jumped back just in time or the door would have hit him in the face.
“Hey back at you,” he said with a grin. He brandished a bunch of red roses and gave them to her. “I wanted to check that you were feeling okay.”
His eyes scanned her onesie, causing both of his dimples to show.
“You like monkeys, huh?” he said, cocking a brow.
Holly was too busy smelling the roses to pick up on his question.
“What?” she said, looking up at him again. Then she remembered she was standing in broad daylight wearing a monkey and banana print onesie. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she resisted the urge to screech and run away.
Bad friends. Very, very bad friends.
“Are you hungry? You can join us for breakfast,” she offered. William’s eyes shifted left and his smile changed. Holly leaned forward to see what he was looking at and inside she died a thousand deaths.
A camera crew stood to the side and had been recording the entire exchange.
“Nope! You do NOT have my permission to record this,” Holly shouted at them. She waved the roses above her head and shooed them away. William held his hand over his face, shoulders shaking.
“A heads up would have been nice!” she hissed at him. “I mean look at me! I’m a monkey for crying out loud!” She imitated the animal with an angry face, then––catching William’s reaction––doubled up with laughter.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said finally, his face flushed with color. “And I can’t join you for breakfast––as much as I’d love to,” William hesitated. “I’ve got a––”
“Don’t tell me. A date?” Holly interjected. William cast his eyes down with a nod.
“I’m glad you’re feeling okay. Last night, I was pretty worried.” His eyes lifted to meet hers.
“Well. As you can see, I’m fit as a fiddle. Nothing wrong here,” she spread her arms jovially and William shook his head with a chuckle.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve met anyone who makes me laugh this much.” He beamed at her.
“There you go. Pick me to be your girlfriend and I’ll be your full-time stand-up comedian!” Holly blurted. Then her blood turned cold and she wished hard that she could rewind the scene and say something cooler. Actually, now Holly thought about it, she wished she could rewind an hour and make herself look presentable. Preferably with something figure hugging.
William took Holly’s hand and leaned in to peck her on the cheek. Feeling his warmth against
