Becoming Me
an excerpt

A beam of light hits me in the face. Why do morning have to be so bright? I squeeze my eyes shut , not ready to face the day yet. Its Saturday, I remind myself. Rebecka's covering the shop. Thank God for Rebecka. That meant I could sleep longer. I smile without opening my eyes, and roll over...

And roll into a warm body.

What the Hell?!

My eyes pop open, and look frantically around a large room, one fact registering in my mind. This isn't my house! I look at the man next to me, apparaising. Not too bad looking but-

Thats when the headache suddenly hits. I've never been one to get a hangover, but I'm not so much of a stick in the mud that I do not know how alchohol affects me. Headaches and a sour stomach are about all I get, and the headache I have now is the worst I've felt since college, and probably worse.

But I've never- and I mean never in my twenty-seven years- ever had a one night stand. I'm going to kill my friends... as soon as I remember who insisted I go out last night.

I slowly sit up, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart in my head, struggling not to wake the stranger- is his name Ben?- next to me. I'd rather have the so-called Walk of Shame all by my lonesome, thank you very much.

Not making a noise, I find my clothes, a wrinkled mess on the floor. That should have tipped me off right away; I never sleep in the nude. I get on my hands and knees to search for my bra. Where the hell is it? Damn it. Guess I'll have to go without.

I put my top on and leave the bedroom, and find my coat slung carelessly over the couch. At least he isn't a slob. I think, picking it up and finding my wallet, cell, and purse underneath.

I realize I dont' know where the Hell I am. I can't even call for a ride, because I can't even get an address. As I leave the house, I lock the door from the inside, and flip open my phone to send a quick text to Rebecka: omg, i don't know where i am!

By the time I'd reached the sidewalk, my phone vibrates in my hand: well u were pretty drunk last nite.

I begin to text her back, but as I turn to walk aimlessly down the street, I see two street signs, and delete the profanity I'd typed at her for letting me go home with someone.

i'm at park and front. GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

The answer is instantanious. shops dead, closing up. be there soon.

Thank God.

I can't decide if she's getting a raise, or if I'll make her work extra shifts for this one...