Ch. 4

The morning after.

"Christ," I muttered angrily. The light was blinding. I was staring out a window, at the blue sky and jarring sunlight, it seemed.

"Oh, good, you're awake." Juniper's familiar voice drifted in from another room.

"What happened?"

"Too much wine. Not enough strawberries," she sang.

I sat up. I was sleeping on a blanket on a room, sparsely furnished with two wicker chairs, a matching side table, and an old television set on a ledge that protruded from the unpainted sheetrock. A maplewood ladder lead up to a small loft where I assumed Juniper had slept.

Rising to my feet, a bit wobbly, I traced Juniper's voice down a short corridor, plaster peeling off the walls. I found her sitting in an old armchair in another small room, perched in front of a computer. Faded red roses on cream wallpaper gave the room an antique look.

"Is that my phone?"

"Yes. I suppose you'd like it back." She switched the screen off and handed it to me.

I stared at her, fazed by her gentle casualness.

"Who is Liam?" she asked nonchalantly.

The blood began to rush to my cheeks.

"Just a boy."

"A-" she paused, looking up at me, biting her lower lip, "-boyfriend?"

"Not exactly."

"Do you love him?"

"With my whole heart."

"Then I suppose you want to leave."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Would you at least like to know where you are?"

I nodded, twirling a strand of my dark hair around my finger. Juniper raised herself to her knees, arms and head slumped over the back of her head, facing me.
"This is my tea shop." She smiled a proud, adolescent smile. "And I live here."

Tea shop? I wondered. The last place I remembered being was in a park, a large park, with lots of artwork.

"Where are we?"

"Woodstock."

I stumbled back. We were over eighty miles away from where I remembered being last.

"What happened last night?"

"We went to one of those obnoxious clubs, with the bad music, and we danced the Charleston in the middle of everyone. You began drinking, and I called us a cab, and you passed out before I could get your address, so I brought you here."

"I danced the Charleston?"

"Better than anyone I've ever seen."

I was about to respond, but I was distracted as a soft warmth began circling my ankles.

"That's Josie," she explained. "Aloysius should be somewhere. He doesn't really like company."

The silvery blue cat, which was slinking in and out between my feet looked up at me, meowed, and scampered off.

"You don't mind me staying?" I prayed she didn't. She couldn't let me leave, she just couldn't.

"Not at all," she chirped. She rolled up the sleeve of her blue button-down, which she still hadn't changed out of, and glanced at her bare wrist. "It's opening time."