The hangover

Rebecca’s POV

“Ooh, my head is spinning…” I heard Nica groan the moment morning light filtered into the room.

She had slept through the entire night like a log, and now the aftermath of her wild night was showing in full force—a serious hangover. Without saying much, I quietly went to the kitchen and made her a strong cup of black coffee. I knew it would help ease the throbbing in her head.

“Here, drink this, Nica,” I said softly as I handed her the steaming mug.

She took it eagerly and downed it in almost one go. “Thank you, Rebecca. You are such a nice friend,” she said with a grateful smile, though her eyes were still heavy and tired.

Thank God it was Saturday—no lectures, no running around. I was grateful for the break. I hadn’t slept well, and my body felt sore from fatigue, both physical and emotional. My mind kept drifting to Mike. I had sensed something off in him that night when he left. The way he hugged me... the apology… the long silence after. I was worried. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow hurt him. But what could I have done? We were just friends. I couldn’t mislead him into thinking it was anything more.

Still, it bothered me.

As Nica began to settle in a bit, I finally decided to confront her about the previous night. Her behavior had been completely out of the ordinary.

“Where were you yesterday? You came here completely drunk, and you know that’s not good,” I asked carefully, trying not to sound too judgmental.

“I was out with my friends. Don’t worry, I’m okay—you see,” she replied, forcing a grin as she stood up, wobbling slightly before heading to the washroom.

I sighed. She was a big girl and had her own life. I couldn’t control her. Besides, I had my own worries to focus on.

Since I wasn’t working on weekends, I planned to stay home and catch up on chores. The house needed cleaning, laundry needed to be done, and I didn’t feel like going anywhere anyway. Saturdays and Sundays always felt long and empty to me—especially with Carlos being far away. While others spent their weekends with their lovers, I often spent mine in silence and solitude.

I went to the kitchen and began making breakfast—some tea and pancakes. I knew Nica hadn’t eaten anything substantial the previous day. Suddenly, I heard the sound of her throwing up in the washroom.

“Are you okay in there?” I asked loudly, laughing despite myself. Her reaction to alcohol was catching up to her.

“Why are you laughing at me, you foolish girl?” she shouted back, and I couldn’t help but laugh even harder. She sounded genuinely annoyed, but she brought this on herself, and deep down, I knew she didn’t mean it.

“Come, let’s have breakfast together. I know you must be starving,” I called out when I heard her finally opening the bathroom door. She looked exhausted and pale.

“I’m not that hungry. I just want to rest. Thanks for your concern. Can I sleep here? Don’t finish all the food—I’ll eat when I wake up,” she said tiredly, throwing herself onto my bed before I could answer.

“Sure, sleep,” I said softly, knowing she needed it.

I returned to my tasks. First up—laundry. I gathered my clothes, took them outside, and started washing. The sun was already up and shining brightly, perfect for drying clothes quickly. It was just a week’s worth of laundry, so it wouldn’t take too long.

I loved our neighborhood—it was always quiet. Unlike other compounds where people fought over the hanging lines or squashed everyone else’s clothes to one corner, here I could wash and hang my laundry in peace. That was one of the reasons I chose this place.

After finishing the laundry, I went back inside to clean the rest of the house. I noticed Nica was awake again and sitting up, munching on the breakfast I had left for her. She looked a lot better.

“Thanks, Rebecca, for what you did for me yesterday,” she said with sincerity in her voice. She looked at me with eyes that said, I know I was a mess. I appreciate you.

“It’s okay, Nica,” I replied with a warm smile. “But were you with your boyfriend last night? I was wondering how you even got here in that state.”

She shook her head and chuckled softly. “My friends dropped me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, Rebecca. Haven’t I ever told you that?”

My eyebrows raised slightly. “No boyfriend? Really?”

I always assumed someone as beautiful and fashionable as Nica had a man in her life. Being single just didn’t suit her image. I was surprised, but I didn’t press further.

“What a disappointment,” I muttered playfully under my breath as I returned to my cleaning.

Nica’s POV

I woke up with my head pounding so hard, I felt like someone was beating drums in there. The hangover was nasty, but that was the price I had to pay for last night’s wild fun. I remembered drinking too much at the club, more than I usually do. I couldn't even get home on my own.

Luckily, I had the sense to direct my friends to Rebecca’s house. I couldn’t return to my own apartment—not when it was a total mess. I wasn’t into housework. I had always hired someone to clean for me, and I was used to that kind of life. After all, we were rich. I didn’t grow up needing to do things myself.

But Rebecca? She was something else. Despite our totally different lifestyles, she never treated me differently. She welcomed me into her modest little home without question. She was my best friend—and she had a good heart.

That morning, she handed me coffee without even asking. That’s just who she was. And even though it helped, I still felt sick. I rushed into her small bathroom and threw up everything.

Her house was small, and it didn’t hide much. From the washroom, you could hear everything happening outside. I could even hear her laughing—clearly at me.

“Are you okay in there?” she called.

But it felt more like teasing than concern. My pride flared up, and before I could stop myself, I snapped, “Why are you laughing at me, you foolish girl?”

It was mean, I know—but I was embarrassed and irritated.

She went quiet after that, which was good. I didn’t want to argue. She invited me for breakfast later, but I was too drained to eat. I just wanted to rest and forget how terrible I felt.

I collapsed on her bed and fell asleep again.

An hour later, I woke up feeling slightly better. Rebecca was already outside doing her laundry. She was such a hard worker—so different from me. I didn’t even know how to do proper laundry. Everything I had ever needed was done for me. And still, here she was—studying, working in a hotel, keeping her house tidy, and still finding time to care for a drunk friend like me.

I went into the kitchen and saw she had left me breakfast. Pancakes and tea. The smell alone made my stomach growl, and I dug in gratefully.

Rebecca came back inside while I was eating.

“Thanks, Rebecca, for what you did for me yesterday,” I told her sincerely. I hoped she wasn’t still mad about the way I yelled at her earlier. She didn’t deserve that.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. She looked curious, though—probably still trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

She asked about a boyfriend, and I shook my head. “No boyfriend yet. My friends dropped me off last night.”

She seemed surprised. I guess I gave off the vibe of someone who always had someone. But nope, not me. Being single was easier anyway—less drama.

Still, I could tell she was disappointed. “What a disappointment,” she mumbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh inside.

Wanting to make up for everything and maybe give her something to look forward to, I turned to her with a hopeful smile.

“Rebecca, can I take you out today? I know you’re planning to stay cooped up in here the whole day.”

It was the least I could do—for everything she had done for me.