Jenny Greene and I hadn't been friends for very long -- fate just sort of decided we'd cross paths and we took it from there.
We'd met at the university's Theatre Society -- obviously. It was hard to find me anywhere else and Jenny, though hardly suited for it given how ridiculously shy she could be, was always there, too. She was delicately built, almost nymph-like in features, with a perpetual nervousness to her countenance, a freckled face with sunken cheeks and deep laugh lines, eyes like sea ice, and strawberry blonde hair which fell past her shoulders. She was, obviously, pretty, in an unconventional way -- which is always the best way. It was little wonder I'd found myself a bit drawn to this cute little fairy.
It was a cold December night and we were two of two dozen crammed into Sasha's house -- the three nights of Hairspray! had been a triumph, mostly, and we were celebrating in the way students do. The Theatre Society was, really, just an excuse to drink -- our excuses just became pretty lavish at times. I hadn't really been around Jenny at all -- she'd found herself something, or maybe even someone, to do in the kitchen, and I was sat on a leather sofa in the tiny living room being regaled by Gordon as he slurred stories about his fascinating time in China. It really wasn't that fascinating. Boring, actually. Eventually, I did come across Jenny. After her excellent run as several minor characters without any speaking roles, she'd changed into a casual sea blue dress which flowed off her in such a way as to show just how delicate a body she had.
Jenny, like me, wasn't one of the hot ones -- I doubt there'd ever been a time she was surrounded by boys. She was, though, in animated conversation with Kyle, star of the show, which was nice for her, I supposed. I watched for a moment before fetching another drink from Sasha's grimy fridge -- when I looked back, they had their tongues in each other's mouths. I grimaced. Nobody looks good doing that. Then, to my surprise and no little amusement, Kyle pulled away and staggered from the room. I'd recognise the walk of someone about to vomit anywhere -- Jenny must have too, because she stared after him with a hurt look on her pretty face.
"What the hell?" she called after him, and I sidled over.
"Don't take it personally," I assured her, my hand cold from the beer can. "I think that was coming no matter what."
"Man..." Jenny muttered, looking at her feet. "I kinda liked him, too."
"I think everyone does," I replied. "Never seen it myself."
"No?" I shrugged.
"He's a guy."
"Oh," said Jenny, knowingly, putting a bottle of wine -- red, half-full -- to her lips. "Figures."
"Careful with that," I muttered, as Jenny downed three dangerous looking mouthfuls.
"I'm fine," she almost shouted, unaware of her volume, once she was done. "I wanna celebrate!" She threw out her arms to punctuate the point -- one of her hands smacked into an overhead cupboard with a sickening clang.
"Oh, shit," I said, passively, as Jenny grabbed her hand and mewled in pain. I stepped towards her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine!" Jenny snapped again, trying to push me away -- she succeeded only in slipping on the tiled kitchen floor, which she then fell and landed on.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered in annoyance, kneeling down.
"Ow," Jenny whimpered, as I took her hands and helped her back to her feet.
"You hurt?" I asked.
"Only pride." She reached for her drink and I batted her hand away.
"Maybe wait a minute."
"Yeah..." Jenny sighed. "Yeah. Maybe. Everything's very spinny."
"Do you wanna sit down for a bit?"
"Yes, please," Jenny mumbled -- I took her dainty hand and led her out of the crowded kitchen and into the crowded hallway, where I sat her on the stairs. While I went to the bathroom, she busied herself by chattering with Helen, but when I came back I found her alone and with face between her knees.
"Oh, boy," I muttered, approaching like you would a wild animal whose danger-level you're not quite sure of, yet. I didn't want her pushing me again -- the world was pretty damn spinny for me, too. "You alright, Jen?"
"Hmm?" She looked up at me -- her blue eyes looked just a little more glassy. "What you say?"
"Okay..." I sighed. "Think it's home time for you."
"What?" She offered weak outrage which told me this wouldn't be hard. "No! It's a party."
"There'll be plenty more -- come on, we live on the same street, I'll drop you off on the way back."
"But..." Jenny blinked, hard, a few times. "Yeah. Okay."
"Come on." Clearly, her body was working hard to convince her that it was the right call. "No more wine for you, I think."
"Oh, but I love it so much..."
We were soon out on the cold, dark street, walking beneath orange streetlights with Jenny doing everything she could to make it last as long as possible. Obviously, I hadn't wanted to leave -- it was barely even eleven -- but somebody had to get her home safe. She stopped to find a cat she insisted lived nearby (she didn't find it), she tried to dance on a streetlight and almost had to be pried off, and while waiting for the bus she kept trying to run off, claiming it would take far less time to just walk home. She was wrong -- the bus did come, eventually, and I pushed her inside.
The ten minute bus journey was defined by Jenny, by now clearly not doing so hot, constantly asking how much further we were. I had to reassure her that we weren't far seemingly every ten seconds. It was quite embarrassing on the mostly full bus -- a few people stared. At least she didn't vomit. I almost did, though.
At last, we were off the bus and I was pushing Jenny through her front door. From there, just down the street, I could see my house further down the brick terrace but, concerned for my friend, I stepped inside and followed her until she ran into the bathroom. Not hearing any puking, I went to the kitchen and poured two pints of water. On her return, Jenny drunk hers hungrily, then poured another.
"I think I'm over the worst of it," she announced.
"You sure?" I replied, wondering if I'd be allowed the last banana in the fruit bowl. I hadn't realised how hungry I was and I was starting to dread the hangover I'd get. I glanced at the red plastic block above the doorway -- nearly twelve. If I got out of here fast, maybe I could get back to the party... no. No, it was over for me. Best just to accept it.
We sat together for a long time in the living room, me on my phone and Jenny staring into space, clutching her water, until she spoke at last.
"I'm sorry, Grace," she sniffed.
"What you sorry for?" I sighed.
"For getting so drunk," she mumbled. "I really embarrassed myself. It's my fault."
"I'm not mad at you, you know," I laughed, putting my phone away. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I dunno," Jenny sighed. She leaned close to me and nuzzled into my chest -- I raised my arms to let her then, after a moment's hesitation, lowered one to drape over her shoulders and hold her close. Her eyes closed and she mumbled sweet little noises as I held her. I fully expected her, then, to fall asleep, but her big blue eyes soon opened again.
