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John followed my lead and offered to take the other before Bob or Steve could even get in a word. In fact, he was so quick about it that Bob and Steve gave each other a quick but queer look. At this point, I was sure that they knew something was going on between us but I really didn't care. While we all took turns in the bathroom, Bob set us up with some blankets and pillows. Once I finished in the bathroom, I headed towards a couch with my t-shirt, shorts, and socks on and ready for some sleep. By now both Bob and Steve were done and in their rooms for the night with just John left in the bathroom.Slipping off my socks as I covered up with the blanket, I made sure to stuff them into my pillowcase so that I would know where they were later. Hearing the bathroom door open, I watched John as he peeked out to see if anyone else was still around. When I gave him a thumbs-up, he strutted out wearing some skimpy shorts that proudly displayed his pulsing hard-on. Once he got to his. She slipped slyly into my parents’ room and I slunk back downstairs, liberated some more Scotch and tried to make sense of it. Then the bedroom door opened again and there were footsteps on the carpet and then the stairs. A herd of people with a bit of giggling.I hid behind the settee and peered around the edge towards the front door, where I saw a touching huddle – and there was plenty of touching going on. Mandy, fully dressed; Bradley, tucking his shirt into his trousers and – God, the trauma – my parents, wearing just bathrobes. They were all laughing and kissing and slipping hands where they shouldn’t be.And then with a ragged chorus of quiet goodbyes, my girlfriend and her stepfather were gone and my parents went back upstairs.There wasn’t much Scotch left by the time I was ready to go to bed, so I topped it up with tap water and placed it exactly where it had been. The master criminal/detective, full of alcohol and incriminating evidence but clear-headed enough to cover his.
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I did, and ate the best, largest breakfast I could remember eating in years. It was nice to have fresh fruit, and eggs, and milk, and sausages, and not worry about how they’d been stored or what they were made from. For all that, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying without all the teasing and chatting I’d become accustomed to during mealtime over the past weeks. The doctor showed up not long after I arrived back in my room. The only thing he had to report was that in my absence, I’d been assigned a ‘guardian’ – someone to make decisions for me when I was unconscious. He was eager to have me meet with her as soon as possible, because he was still having trouble trying to keep me without extra accoutrements like feeding tubes, despite the forms I’d signed. I agreed to meet with her as soon as she was available, and the nurse left a message for her to come. We talked about my dreams a bit, including the odd burns that showed up and disappeared just as quickly. Neither of us had scientific.

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