"Did I get drunk, or did I get drunk?" Nelle heard her own voice groan out before she even registered that she spoke. Straight on the heels of that came the throbbing pain of a hangover—and it didn't like her voice at all. The swimming sensation made her nauseous as hell.

        "Mmmpf,"was the only reply. Of course, that was Eli, always asleep in her bed after a night of shenanigans, and Nelle's best friend since they had met in 2nd grade. Of course, everyone always told them it was weird to crash together, especially since Eli was known to be a bit of a skirtchaser, but they had never looked at each other that way—hell, Nelle couldn't remember ever wearing a dress, she hated them so much.

         Finally, her head stopped spinning, and she hoped to get back to sleep, when he shifted, brushing against her exposed chest.

         Her exposed...

        She forgot about her shitty head and shot upright, her bleary eyes fighting for focus in the dawn's early light. It was one thing for Eli to have a bare chest, but she quit being that much of a guy as soon as he teased her about her pudge—the ass—long before she developed. It had so embarrassed her, she almost quit having sleepovers, before he had apologized. That had damn near been a decade ago, though...

         Eli finally turned over, squinted at her face, "What's got your tongue, chatterbox?" That's all he got out before he looked down—still long up, for him—and saw her bare rack. A fairly hefty bare rack that she supposed he'd not bothered to ever think about before that moment. Then it clearly hit him why she wasn't speaking—quite frankly, Nelle looked terrified. Not that her breasts did, he had to glance back up to confirm that fear. He lifted back their blanket, looking down—fully naked, the both of them, twisted bed sheets, and blood, covering them both. Her blood, obviously. His best friend never talked about a sex life like he did, but it's not like she never dated anyone—she had boyfriends before.

         Finally, his own shock caught up to him. "Oh shit...this can't be happening."

        That hurt a lot. Nelle felt her chest clench—not that she wasn't thinking the same thing, but most the time Eli made things better, not worse. She backed away from him, without room to, falling on her bare ass on the fluffy rug she kept beside her bed. That finally did it. She teetered to her feet and ran to the bathroom and embraced the porcelain god, offering him the very pit of her stomach, accompanied by the very fluent cursing of damn near her whole world, just a door away.

~~~

Anyone who knows what show I'm specifically referencing in the opening sentence gets a cookie.