Tangled Thoughts by Cara Bertrand

alcohol do it for me.”
    She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œI’m sure you are.” I tapped my fingers some more. She peeked at me but said nothing. After a few moments, I got up to pop a frozen waffle in the toaster and retrieve a cup of coffee and some aspirin for her. Despite the green tint to her complexion, I didn’t think she’d throw up again. She’d already done so much of it, what could possibly be left?
    She thanked me and downed some of both, rolling her head back and forth before taking another sip. When the waffle popped up, I brought it to her dry. “Thank you,” she repeated. “Think you can make me forget last night?” She held out her wrist, which looked clammy and limp.
    â€œEven if I could, it wouldn’t cure the hangover.”
    â€œShit.”
    â€œPretty much.”
    â€œWhat good are mental superpowers if they can’t even make us forget our mistakes?” She took a bite and chewed slowly.
    I went back to tapping my fingers on the table, louder, until she narrowed her eyes at me. “If I
could
erase what you did last night, you’d just do it again.”
    Muffled by waffle, Amy grumbled, “So you’re saying this is all to teach me a lesson, right? Thanks, Mom. I won’t do it again.” She held up one of her fingers, and I laughed.
    â€œWere you trying to tell me ‘Scout’s Honor’? The Boy Scout Salute involves a few more fingers.”
    She waved her finger at me. “No, I think I got this one right.”
    â€œAll I’m saying is now it will be awhile before you do it again—because you know you will—and by then I’ll be feeling charitable again.”
    She sighed and I made myself another cup of coffee. While I was mixing in my sugar, she finally said, “You know it’s going to be your turn one of these days. I promise not to gloat. Much.”
    â€œI’ll hold you to that. Besides, I’ve had hangovers.”
    â€œA little headache after two glasses of wine where you go jogging or some shit to feel better does
not
qualify.” She rose from the table as if in slow motion, taking special care not to move her head at all. “Excuse me while I go die on the couch.”
    â€œJust be warned, my group partner will be here soon. No more talk of mental superpowers.”
    Her head snapped in my direction and she groaned, slapping a limp hand to her forehead. I resisted the urge to laugh at her. “Ugh. But, what? You mean someone’s coming here? To your apartment?”
    I shrugged. “I had no way of knowing when, or if, you’d wake up. So yeah, I invited her here. She’s cool.” Usually I kept college and my home separate. It was important to me for reasons I had trouble explaining, even to myself, but Amy seemed to understand.
    â€œOkay. I—I’m sorry.” She really meant it this time. “And, just real quick, a little more superpower stuff. Have you talked to Jack?”
    â€œNo! And
we’re
not going to talk about it either.” She opened her mouth to say something and I sighed. “So much for hoping you wouldn’t remember.”
    A laugh popped out of her, followed by a groan. “Oh, crap, that was painful. Don’t make me laugh, Lane. I may have been drunk, but I wasn’t oblivious. Like I’d forget
that
. He’s—” The look on my face must have really been something, because she actually quit talking. “Okay. Later,” she said and changed her trajectory toward the shower.
    Serena arrived while I was still
in
the shower, which is how I found her and Amy sprawled in the living room, becoming fast friends. Amy was stretched out on the couch and I pushed her feet out of the way so I could sit down.
    â€œI like your friend,” Amy said without opening her eyes.
    Serena propped her feet up on the ottoman. “So, let me get this straight.
You
live here, like you, by