I wake up in a fog. My head is pounding. Someone stands over me, asking if I’m okay. Despite the ringing in my ears and thumping vein in my forehead, I hear the voice say, “You came in here almost an hour ago.”

I gaze up at the tall blonde standing over me and ask her where I am. It’s then I realize that I’m leaning on a shelf full of cake mix and frosting. ‘Aha,’ I think. That would account for part of the headache. Her response to me is barely audible. Something with a W? Winco? Wal-Mart maybe? I open my mouth to speak again, but my taste buds stop me with a stench of unknown origin seeping out from the back of my throat. The sweet woman helps me up and
tells me it’s ten to midnight.

“Ah, crap,” I mumble, “How the hell…?” I can’t finish. Must’ve gotten up too fast. She walks me towards the exit, letting me lean heavily on her. I can’t help but trip on my own feet and the woman grabs me tighter to keep me from falling. I pause for a moment; the woman releases her grip slightly on my waist. I recall seven o’clock. The party began at my place. So how did I get here? I glance down to see my tennis shoes and party dress. There’s a small
scrape on my knee. As I reach down to touch it, my body sinks forward, ready for a serious face-plant. Luckily, the blonde woman is paying attention and pulls me back up.

“Woah, woah,” she says, “Come on, let’s get you
outside.”

I mumble to her, “Why are you open so late? Did I miss the ball drop?”

She chuckles and rolls her green eyes, “No, but if ya
don’t hurry you will!”

We reach the exit. “Do you think you can manage?” she asks me. I nod and smile. She lets go of me, handing me the small satin bag she’d had tucked under her arm. I nod again taking it from her and put my hand through the wrist loop. My first few steps are very slow. I manage to say thanks as I waddle out through the automatic doors. Frosty air catches me and I wish I’d thought to wear a jacket. This skimpy black dress was clearly a mistake. If it weren’t for my friend Niki, I could’ve just worn the same old jeans and blouse I wear every New Year’s.

“Damn you Niki,” I say furthering my steps into the cold winter. I stare up at the building once I’m far enough away. Yup, Winco. Just as I suspected. “Then I’m not too far,” I say with glee. As I start my trek home, my mind searches for the lost hours. Kelly came over first, she brought snacks and beer. Gradually more and more people showed up. Hank set up pong in the basement. It seemed like it would be quite a successful evening. Then again, by the way I’m feelin,’ mission accomplished. Nothing else comes to mind and then a gust of wind hits me. I wrap my arms around myself and wish I was still wasted.

I remember hearing once that the chef on the Titanic was drunk; that’s how he survived. That movie was garbage besides the ending. That’s what I would do if I was stuck on a massive ship and it was goin’ down. Chug a lug chug. They don’t give us drunkards enough credit. My thoughts spiral off, as they usually do. I imagine myself finding a quiet spot by a tree in the park nearby and laying down. Eventually I would close my eyes. My friends would find me later in the afternoon. They would check my pulse. Hypothermia! I laugh at myself for such a ridiculous thought process.

Along my walk home, I stop at the art museum, staring at the glass doors with the sign listing hours of operation. “That might be fun,” I say. I shuffle over to the entrance still holding my arms tightly around myself, and push my face onto the glass, cupping my eyes. It’s too dark to really see anything, but for some reason I continue to sit there. My arms begin to shake from the cold. I love this feeling, reveling in it; the harshness of winter against bare skin. It’s like a punishment or adrenaline thing. I’m not really sure; I just know I love the uncomfortable bitter cold. I finally pull back and coddle myself again whacking my left arm with my purse.

“Ou,” I say out of habit. I open the clasp and take out my cell. It’s a good phone, classic flip. Everyone tells me to upgrade, that my phone is so outdated. I politely refuse. A smile comes over me as I gaze at its worn edges. You can tell it’s been dropped a lot; mainly because of nights like this. Perhaps it’s time to take a break from the booze, eh sista? “Nah,” I shake my head and laugh.

I flip open my phone to the picture of my sweetie, David. We’ve been dating for a few months now. He gets me. That’s hard to come by when you’re such an interesting and complex minded individual. I wonder if I’ll make it back in time for a New Year’s smooch. I flip my cell closed to see the time. Two minutes left.

“Ah well,” I say, “A little bit late, but a kiss nonetheless.” Just a few more blocks and I’m gonna lay it on him like white on rice! I giggle thinking of the look on his face if I said that to him. He rolls his eyes a lot, but unlike so many others, he smiles and hugs me. I wonder if he’s worried. I wonder if I told him where I was going. Probably not.

Then like a light bulb, “Ohh,” I say. I remember when Niki arrived. I let out a solid laugh, “Damn you woman!” I shake my fists in the air as if she is standing right there. Niki was the culprit who brought the tequila. She knows my affinity towards it. And, of course, she had to buy the good shit, Patron Silver. I recall David, in the corner of the kitchen shaking his head, smiling, as Niki pronounced shot time. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, something about red velvet cake, then it gets hazy.

I must’ve slipped out as no one was watching. The likelihood of anyone, especially David, letting me leave unaccompanied is pretty slim. I gaze up at the stars and am drawn off course, into the park. The moon shines scattered through branches lighting my way. I find an open space between the vast chunks of trees and sit down. The ground feels damp and cold beneath me. I lie back on my arms and just stare.

“This is nice,” I hum to myself. The cold, damp doesn’t bother me because the scene above me is too awesome to care about such insignificant things as warmth. I wonder at the stars above me; each twinkling galaxy. Perhaps it is all just a mirage. Maybe there is no universe! Maybe we never really did go to the moon! It’s like I’m on the Truman Show in my head. I can see it; all of my friends and family are watching behind the scenes, as I fumble around downtown Boise, searching for…David. No. He has to be real. The thought of him, my dearest David, being a phony is just too silly to comprehend. I start to laugh uncontrollably, until the pain comes back to my forehead.

“Uggh” I grope at it for solace. My eyes get heavy and I yawn. Just a short nap couldn’t hurt, I think. I give the stars one last long stare, before I close my eyelids.

Before I know it, a dream takes me away. I see my apartment, filled with people and I’m searching for something I can’t at first place. No one notices as I move through the crowd. I think that’s how ghosts must feel amongst people. Unnoticed amongst a crowd of conversation, but yearning for something, trying to reach out to someone, anyone in a mob of people. Instead, my body just keeps moving; it knows what it’s after, but hasn’t told me yet. I continue on, in eerie spirit form, out of the building to the sidewalk. Cars line the street. It’s dark and chilly, only a few street lights are on and they’re far away. Frost covers several of the windshields ahead of me. I turn back to see the lights and hear a muffled sound of music and chaos emanating from my apartment building.

Something in this view makes my heart ache. ‘What’s missing?’ my spirit-self wonders. I begin to walk woefully away from the apartment, towards the nearest streetlamp. As I look at my folded arms, I realize I’m wearing a jacket, though I feel desperately cold. The street light looks warm and cozy to me and so I move faster to stand beneath it. But it doesn’t help. I’m still frozen. Then a familiar voice calls out my name. I turn around and see him. David. My David. He is running up the street. As his feet hit the sidewalk, he slows down and walks to me. He takes me in his arms and holds me. Suddenly I get it, and warmth consumes me. My eyes burst open at hearing him speak.

“Where have you been?” he asks me, panic in his voice. I apologize and he rushes over to me and scoops me up in his arms. “Do me a favor,” David says pulling me away to look at my face, “don’t do that anymore, eh?”

I smile and wait for his embrace. “Happy New Years,” I whisper. David holds my face, bringing it to his. I am no longer cold.