Dick's first thought when he woke up: 'I feel like crap.'
His second thought: 'Why did I leave the curtains open?'
His third: 'This isn't my hotel room.'
He got out of bed, naked except for his wedding ring, and went to close the curtain. The view of the city from the upper story window didn't tell him anything. He was from Peoria. He wouldn't know Manhattan from Long Island.
Where was he? It wasn't a hotel room at all. More like someone's apartment. But whose? In the darkness he made out the figure on the bed. What he assumed was a discarded comforter was starting to look like a person asleep. 'Fucking shit.'
He found his trousers and quickly pulled them on. He felt his wallet in the pocket and room key. He wanted to get the hell out of there. But he had to get the full story. Maybe there was an innocent explanation. 'Yeah, right.'
In the attached bathroom by the glow of a hummingbird night light he rinsed his dry, sour mouth and rubbed his gums with toothpaste and a finger. He splashed cold water on his face and as he lowered the hand towel from his eyes he saw her in the doorway.
"Morning, Dickie," she said and briefly embraced him before reaching for the toothbrush by the sink. "Don't kiss me 'til I've brushed, okay?"
She was easily the most beautiful girl he had seen in his life. Big eyes, fine features, straight, shoulder-length hair with bangs just above her eyebrows. She had a slender figure and wore a sleeveless satin nightie that hardly came down to her thighs.
"April," he said. Fragmented memories surfaced of the night before. He remembered music, dancing, a girl... two girls.
She made unhappy eye contact with him in the mirror. "April's my roommate."
She spit in the sink and rinsed her toothbrush. Dick searched the scenes that played in his mind.
