It took her a little longer than she expected to drag her too-well-packed suitcase up the three flights of stairs to the apartment she shared with her friends. By the time she slid her key into the lock, she could feel her face had turned pink; she took a moment and tried to catch her breath and cool down before turning the key and the doorknob.
The combination of alcohol, airplane, and physical exertion had worn her out. She knew she would sleep soundly when she made it into bed---despite the ninety-degree, Savannah heat.
When she finally pushed the apartment's door open, she was greeted by the sight of her roommates, Serena and Catherine, sprawled out on the floor and watching television. It wasn't a shocking sight because they frequently watched television; however, Annabeth felt a little surprised by the vodka and juice bottles on the second-hand coffee table, and by the political news coverage on the screen.
"What's going on?" she asked, trying very hard not to slur her words.
"You're back!" Serena exclaimed. Her curly blonde hair bounced around her shoulders and down her back as she jumped up into a more upright sitting position and waved excitedly. "How was the flight?"
Annabeth gave her roommate a weak smile. The flight would have been fine if she didn't fear flying so much. It was terrifying for her, to be up so high in the sky; she had been at O'Hare Airport when she was eleven years old, and while she didn't see the disaster that destroyed American Airlines DC-10, she saw the activities and panic that had followed. The trip was supposed to be an exciting adventure to visit her mother's sister and her new baby---with her first airplane ride. Nothing had ever left such an impression on her mind as that day in Chicago, while they waited for their transfer flight.
"That great, huh?" Catherine, her other roommate, said as a smile teased her lips.
The petite, Southern blonde nodded. She lugged her suitcase inside, and then closed and locked the door behind her. She left her baggage by the kitchen and kicked her loafers off as she made her way towards her friends.
"What are you two doing?" Annabeth asked. "Are you planning on going to a club or something? It's Wednesday, and that isn't exactly---"
"Oh, no... we're watching the State of the Union," Serena explained as she relaxed against her favourite piece of furniture---the beanbag chair. She smoothed her hands over her paint-smattered jeans.
Annabeth blinked but remained silent. She didn't understand why her two best friends---who considered "'Alizarin Crimson' versus 'Cadmium Red'" to be a political conversation and who were the most narrowly liberal people she had ever met---were watching a State of the Union for a Republican President.
"Serena's new boyfriend is a little obsessed with politics," Catherine explained as she combed her pastel-stained hands through her long, red hair.
"The... law school student?" Annabeth asked.
"Yeah," the redhead replied.
Serena giggled, the vodka having its effect on her mood and mannerisms. "We started to watch it sober, but this is sooo boring. So we're making up a drinking game as we go along."
"Um... okay," Annabeth said in a slow, careful voice. She didn't know if it was due to the two glasses of chardonnay she had in the airport lounge before she boarded her plane, but her mind didn't seem to be processing everything as well as it should have been. "Well, I think I'll leave you two to it, then," she said with a smile. "I am completely tuckered out and I have that article by Laurie Schneider Adams to review tomorrow."
"Ohhhh c'mon!" Serena protested. "Stay a little while, okay? Please?"
"But---"
"C'mon," Catherine said as she grinned. "We bought great vodka," she added, motioning towards the clear bottle with bright blue lettering.
"Are you saying that because the bottle is aesthetically pleasing?" Annabeth asked as she opened her purse and started rummaging for her glasses case. Her contact lenses were driving her crazy and they had to come out. "Or is the vodka actually good?"
Serena grinned, too. "Oh, no, it's actually good. We still have some bourbon around here, too, that we're gonna finish---"
"Can't have that," Annabeth protested. "It makes me do and say things that aren't... proper."
Catherine laughed. "Screw proper, Annabeth! You're a student at SCAD. Sure, you're not a bleeding-heart, liberal painter like the rest of us, but you're part of the liberal institution. So what if you get a little... uninhibited after bourbon? What're you gonna do? Tell us you'd screw Bush?"
Annabeth paled. "Oh, my gosh, no way!" she exclaimed. "Never! There isn't enough bourbon in all of Kentucky to make me want to... think improperly about the President!"
"So, what's the problem, then?" Serena asked as she crawled to the table and poured a drink into an empty (and hopefully clean) cup. "Join us," she said, offering Annabeth the drink.
Twenty minutes later, Annabeth was into her third drink because of those pesky drinking game rules Catherine and Serena were making up and she didn't know how many drinks they had put away.
Catherine had taken to asking them if they'd 'do' the politicians and noteworthy guests that the cameras fell upon during the speech. Serena thought it was hilarious and Annabeth thought it was troubling, until they cracked open the bottle of bourbon. After a few fingers of whiskey, she was beginning to seriously consider some of Catherine's questions.
"They're not showing enough Democrats," she complained glumly as she poured herself another shot.
Serena laughed. "Annabeth, you wouldn't sleep with a Republican?"
"I don't think they know how to... well, how to have fun."
"How do they breed more Republicans?" Catherine asked.
Serena's laughter turned into her signature drunk-giggle. She leaned back into her beanbag chair and fixated on the screen. Annabeth watched her friend for a second and then she turned her attention back to the television screen. The President finished his national address and then the news station started to interview Republicans and Democrats as part of their analysis of President G. H. W. Bush's speech. Catherine topped up their drinks and they grouped together as they continued to watch the screen, drinking to more made-up-on-the-fly rules.
Their silence was only punctuated by questions like "What do you think of him?" and responses like "Not even if I finished this bottle by myself."
And then she saw him.
"Well, Jack, it wasn't half bad," the man said in his gravely voice, "but there are still plenty of issues that need to be addressed."
"Like what, Leo?" the announcer, Jack, asked as he leaned forward on his desk to converse with the fair-haired man. "We heard about foreign policy, which is a hot button---"
"All we heard about was foreign policy," the guest commentator said. "I know, it's what's happening right now. But, there are millions of people living in this country who have other concerns, ninety-nine percent of the time. The Secretary of Defense has been pretty busy this year... but we haven't heard about HUD or Labour lately---and jobs and housing are important to Americans, too...."
Annabeth stopped listening to his words as he started reciting statistics that made his blood pressure increase; she started focusing on his eyes and how expressive they were. When he started waving his hands around, she found herself distracted by them. They seemed like nice, solid hands that were able to grip soundly; that thought made her heart race a little and she knew the bourbon was having its signature effect on her, despite the wedding ring on his left hand.
"Who's that?" she asked Serena in a rather breathless voice.
"Oh... um... Leonard something. No, wait... that's not right," she mumbled. She stretched her leg out and nudged Catherine. "Hey, who's that guy?"
"Leo Mc... Mc... McGarry. I think."
Annabeth nodded silently.
"Kinda Prussian Blue," Serena said quietly after a few minutes of watching the passionate man critique the President's address. "Dontcha think?"
"If you're talking about his eyes... I was gonna say Cerulean, Reenie," Catherine replied.
Serena squealed and kicked Catherine's arm lightly. "Don't call me Reenie!" she scolded playfully.
Her roommates roughhoused for a few minutes, tussling around their small, dimly lit living room. Annabeth tuned them out---since they were always rowdy drunks---and she continued to watch the news anchor interview the man that she found pretty attractive.
"Well, you seem to have some pretty passionate feelings about the State of the Union, Leo," Jack said with a smile.
"Politics aren't for the faint-hearted, Jack," Leo replied, grinning and unknowingly making Annabeth squirm slightly on the floor.
"We're going to cut to Mark Gottfried, who is with notable House Democrats," Jack said, looking between Leo and the camera. "Will you stick around until after the next commercial break?"
"You bet."
Annabeth blinked and noticed that Serena and Catherine were staring at Annabeth with silly grins on their flushed faces. She tried to glare crossly at them, but the alcohol she had consumed was making that difficult.
"What?"
"You've got a crush on him," Catherine stated.
Even as she was blushing, Annabeth exclaimed, "I do not! Are you out of your mind? He's... he's older! And... well, married! And... in D.C.! He's completely wrong---"
"Oh, c'mon!" Serena interrupted. "We all crush celebrities from time to time! You just... you sure pick odd ones."
"I am not infatuated with... I mean... he's almost old enough to be my father!" Annabeth squealed. "Reenie, you are completely off your rocker!"
She grinned. "It's the older ones who know exactly what they're doing," she purred, teasing Annabeth even more.
"Oh, god, this conversation is surreal," Annabeth muttered.
Serena giggled more. "C'mon, Bethie," she cooed teasingly, "we know you think he's quite the muffin."
Annabeth swallowed hard. "He's... he's got a great voice," she admitted. She also thought he looked very powerful, and she always liked that sort of quality in her male companions; however, she didn't want to admit that to her friends. "And that's it! I swear! Honestly, you two---" she stopped short and sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck, you two give me a hard time!"
Her cursing sent both girls into fits of laughter. Even to her own ears, 'the f-word' sounded alien when spoken in her voice.
"You are so drunk," Catherine accused as her laughter faded away.
"Drunk? Me? No way," Annabeth protested. "Drunk... it's such a strong word. Kind of a gutteral, Anglo-Saxon word." She snorted, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. "Drunk."
Serena laughed again. "What are you, then?"
"Tipsy," she said, jutting her chin upwards, into the air.
"Well, I am absolutely drunk," Serena said as she leaned back against her oversized pillow. "No, wait... I'm... smashed. Completely, utterly smashed."
"I'm kinda detached from my body," Catherine commented.
Annabeth laughed at that. "Well, if it helps any, your head and neck are still connected to your shoulders."
Catherine snorted and giggled. "Yeah, thanks," she mumbled. She stifled a yawn. "Okay... what time is studio class tomorrow, Reenie?"
"Quarter past 'never.'"
"Seriously."
The blonde girl looked at the redhead. "Half past 'sooo not going because I'll still be hungover.'"
Catherine tossed a nearby throw pillow at her friend. "Loser."
"Oooh, you wound me with your words," she moaned.
"You two should go to bed," Annabeth said, trying to sound as sober as she could. "You both have studio at ten. And it's three hours. I'll cook hangover breakfast for you at eight-thirty," she promised, "but you have to go to bed now."
"Trying to get rid of us so you can make googly eyes at Mr. McGarry?" Serena teased.
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she scoffed. "Get over it! He has a nice voice but that's about it! I'm not into politicians. Artists, yes, politicians, no."
"Sure, sure," Catherine said as she pulled herself to her feet. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned again. "Yeah... okay. It's officially bedtime."
"Help me up," Serena mumbled, pouting as she extended her arms upwards.
Catherine laughed, rolled her eyes, and then helped Serena into a standing position. "You'll turn the lights out?" she asked Annabeth.
Annabeth nodded. "Yep," she replied. "Sleep well, guys."
Mumbled, slurred conversation could be heard as they drifted down the hall, towards their bedrooms. Annabeth turned her attention back to the television. She wasn't entirely aware of what she was watching---she hadn't been paying attention to the speech, so the critiques of the speech didn't really mean much to her---but she was hoping for another glimpse of the man with the nice blue eyes.
She went to bed disappointed and woke up in the morning to cook breakfast. That afternoon, between classes and meetings with study groups, she found a book on politics in the city's public library and she decided that she would at least try to understand the way the country worked.
Many books, countless daily news programmes with meals, a subscription to a national newspaper, and an internship later, Annabeth found herself in an entirely different world.
