Maggie smiled and took Anita’s hand. “And if you weren’t so drunk,” she whispered soothingly, “I just might let you.”
“I’m not drunk,” Anita mumbled near-incomprehensibly in protest.
“Shhh. Of course you’re not.” Maggie gently stroked Anita’s hair. Soon she was slumped against Maggie’s shoulder, snoring softly.
What a bunch of lightweights.
Maggie slowly wriggled her way out from under Anita. She looked around the room at her sleeping friends before picking up the pizza boxes and a few of the empty bottles before unsteadily making her way to the kitchen.