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Megan was absolutely not supposed to end up like this.
The plan had been simple. Go out, look cute, maybe flirt a little, dance a lot, come home at a semi-reasonable hour, and not text her ex. A very achievable plan. A plan that Past Megan—Sober Megan—had felt extremely confident about while aggressively blending her makeup in the mirror at 8 p.m.
Now?
Now it was 2:47 a.m., and Megan was being half-carried, half-dragged up the stairs by her roommate and best friend Lara, who was rethinking every life decision that had led her to this exact moment.
“Why,” Lara panted, struggling to unlock the front door while Megan leaned all her weight onto her like a dramatic Victorian woman, “did I let you out of this house tonight?”
Megan, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, turned her head slowly like it weighed fifty pounds. “Because,” she slurred, “I’m… the moment.”
“You are a moment,” Lara corrected, finally getting the key in. “Just not a good one.”
The door swung open, and Lara practically stumbled inside with Megan clinging to her like a koala that had zero regard for personal space or balance.
“Okay, okay, shoes off,” Lara said, kicking the door shut behind them.
Megan looked down at her feet like Lara had just asked her to solve a complex math equation. “Feet… jail,” she whispered.
“…What?”
“My feet are in jail.”
“They’re in heels, Megan.”
“Same thing.”
Lara closed her eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply through her nose. Stay calm. Stay calm. You love her. She is your best friend. You will not abandon her on the hallway floor.
“Okay,” Lara said slowly. “We’re gonna sit down, and then I’m gonna take your shoes off, yeah?”
Megan nodded very seriously. “Yeah. Teamwork.”
“Right. Teamwork.”
Lara guided her to sit on the edge of the couch, which Megan did—except she missed slightly and ended up collapsing sideways, giggling into the cushions.
“This couch is… so soft,” Megan mumbled. “Lara, did we always have this couch?”
“Yes, Megan. We’ve had it for two years.”
“Whoa.”
Lara crouched down and started unbuckling Megan’s heels, which felt like defusing a bomb given how much Megan kept wiggling her feet.
“Stop moving,” Lara muttered.
“I’m helping.”
“You are actively making this worse.”
One heel came off. Then the other. Lara tossed them aside and stood up, hands on her hips, assessing the situation.
Step one: shoes off. Success.
Step two: water.
Step three: prevent Megan from throwing up on literally everything they own.
“Megan,” Lara said, heading to the kitchen. “Stay there.”
“Where am I gonna go?” Megan replied, already melting deeper into the couch.
“Valid, but still.”
Lara grabbed a glass of water and came back, finding Megan now lying fully horizontal, one arm dangling dramatically off the side like she was in a music video.
“Sit up,” Lara said, nudging her.
“No.”
“Megan.”
“No,” she repeated, but softer this time, like a stubborn toddler.
Lara exhaled sharply. “If you don’t sit up, I’m gonna pour this on your face.”
Megan’s eyes snapped open. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
There was a long pause.
“…Okay,” Megan mumbled, slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position, swaying slightly.
“Thank you,” Lara said, handing her the glass. “Drink.”
Megan stared at it. “What is it?”
“Water.”
“Suspicious.”
“It’s literally water.”
Megan took a cautious sip, then made a face. “Tastes like… water.”
“Shocking.”
But she kept drinking, small sips at first, then bigger ones, until the glass was empty.
“Good job,” Lara said, taking it back. “See? Hydration. We love that.”
Megan beamed at her like she’d just won an award. “I’m so good at drinking.”
“Let’s not make that your brand tonight.”
Megan giggled, then suddenly leaned forward, resting her forehead against Lara’s shoulder.
“I love you,” she mumbled.
Lara froze for a second, then sighed, softening slightly. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”
“No, like… I love you,” Megan insisted, gripping her hoodie. “You’re my favorite person. Don’t tell anyone else.”
“I won’t,” Lara said, gently patting her back. “But right now, I need you to not throw up on me, okay?”
Megan pulled back, looking deeply offended. “I would never.”
“Great. Let’s keep it that way.”
As if on cue, Megan’s expression shifted.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
Lara’s stomach dropped. “Oh no what?”
“I feel… spinny.”
“Okay—bathroom. Now.”
Lara grabbed her hand and practically hauled her up, rushing her toward the bathroom just in time for Megan to drop to her knees by the toilet.
Lara crouched beside her, holding her hair back like a seasoned professional.
“This is why we don’t take random edibles from strangers, Megan,” Lara said, rubbing her back.
“He wasn’t a stranger,” Megan groaned. “He had… vibes.”
“Your ‘vibes’ are going to kill you one day.”
After a few miserable minutes, Megan slumped back against the wall, looking absolutely wrecked.
“I’m never drinking again,” she declared weakly.
“Sure,” Lara said. “You say that every time.”
“This time I mean it.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Megan squinted at her. “You don’t believe me.”
“I really, truly don’t.”
“Rude.”
Lara stood up and grabbed a damp washcloth, handing it to her. “Wipe your face.”
Megan took it, dabbing at her cheeks with exaggerated care. “I feel like a sad raccoon.”
“You look like one too.”
“Wow.”
“But like… a cute one,” Lara added quickly.
Megan brightened. “Okay, I forgive you.”
“Thank God.”
Lara helped her stand again, steadying her as they shuffled out of the bathroom.
“Okay, next step,” Lara said. “We’re getting you into pajamas.”
Megan frowned. “But I like this outfit.”
“You’re wearing a crop top and a skirt that’s hanging on for dear life.”
“It’s fashion.”
“It’s a health hazard.”
Lara guided her into her bedroom, sitting her down on the bed.
“Stay,” Lara said, holding up a finger.
“I’m not a dog.”
“Then act like a person and don’t move.”
Lara went to Megan’s dresser and pulled out an oversized t-shirt and some shorts, tossing them onto the bed.
“Clothes. Change.”
Megan stared at them like they were abstract art. “You want me to… do things?”
“Yes, Megan. I want you to change your clothes.”
“That’s… a lot.”
Lara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you need help?”
Megan considered this very seriously.
“…Maybe.”
“Of course you do.”
What followed was possibly the most chaotic, uncoordinated attempt at changing clothes in human history.
Megan kept getting distracted halfway through, laughing at nothing, or leaning on Lara like she’d forgotten how to stand.
At one point, she got stuck with her shirt halfway over her head and just… stayed there.
“I can’t see,” her muffled voice came from inside the fabric.
“That’s because your head is inside your shirt,” Lara said, trying not to laugh.
“Fix it.”
“I am trying.”
Eventually—eventually—they got her into pajamas.
Lara stepped back, hands on her hips, surveying her work. “Okay. Progress.”
Megan swayed slightly, then flopped backward onto the bed.
“Bed,” she sighed happily. “I love bed.”
“Same,” Lara said. “But we’re not done yet.”
Megan groaned dramatically. “There’s more?”
“Yes. You need to take some medicine so you don’t wake up feeling like death.”
“I already feel like death.”
“Future death, then.”
Lara grabbed some ibuprofen and a bottle of water from her own room and came back.
“Sit up again,” she said.
Megan didn’t move.
“Megan.”
“No.”
Lara crossed her arms. “Megan. Up."
“…You’re evil,” Megan muttered, but she sat up.
“Thank you. Open.”
Megan obediently opened her mouth like a child at the dentist.
Lara dropped the pills in and handed her the water.
“Drink.”
Megan swallowed them with minimal protest, then flopped back down again.
“Done,” she mumbled.
“Done,” Lara confirmed.
Finally.
Lara turned to leave, exhausted, but before she could take two steps—
“Lara,” Megan’s small voice called.
Lara paused, glancing back. “What?”
“…Don’t go.”
Lara hesitated.
Megan shifted, patting the empty space beside her. “Stay. Please.”
There was something softer in her tone now, less chaotic, more vulnerable.
Lara sighed quietly.
“You’re so annoying.” she said, but she walked back over anyway.
Megan smiled sleepily as Lara climbed onto the bed beside her, still fully dressed, propped up against the headboard.
Megan immediately rolled toward her, tucking herself into Lara’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re comfy,” Megan mumbled.
“You’re clingy,” Lara replied, but she didn’t move away.
For a while, there was silence.
Megan’s breathing slowly evened out, her grip on Lara’s hoodie loosening as she drifted closer to sleep.
Lara looked down at her, shaking her head slightly.
“You’re never taking an edible again,” she murmured.
Megan made a small noise, half-asleep. “Okay.”
“Liar.”
“…Love you.”
Lara’s expression softened, just a little.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”
She adjusted the blanket over Megan, making sure she was properly covered, then leaned her head back against the wall.
It had been a long night. A very long night.
But as annoying and chaotic and exhausting as it had been—
Lara let out a quiet sigh, glancing down at Megan one more time.
—it was kind of worth it.
Even if she was absolutely going to hold this over Megan’s head forever.
And definitely confiscate any future “vibes-based” edibles.
No questions asked.