“Work?” Victoria asked.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t exactly work, but she couldn’t tell Victoria about Brady. Her friend would probably be ecstatic for her, but it was too scary to have people know. The more people with the knowledge of their secret, the more people who could spill it. Even if by accident.

“Do you get to at least wear a rocking dress? Oh my God, have you picked it out already? Can I go with you?” Victoria asked, perking up at the thought of shopping.

Liz shrugged her shoulders as if she didn’t know how to answer the questions. “I, uh…was going to go in something I already had. That’s what I did for the last one.”

Victoria leveled a gaze at her that was equal parts how are we friends and are you sure you’re female? “If this thing is a big deal, we need to get you something new!”

“There’s really not time,” Liz told her.

“We’ll make time for this. You’ll be less nervous about the event in a brand-new dress! Scientific fact. I would know,” she said, then finished off her drink. “Drink up, bitch. I’m getting you another.”

Liz stared down into her half-full drink and sighed. It was going to be a rough night.

As the night wore on, Liz felt her intoxication gradually sneak up on her. It wasn’t like at Justin’s frat party, where the hunch punch had hit her instantly and she had just been gone. This was the best kind of drunk. She and Victoria were barhopping up and down Franklin Street, following friends to new places, and enjoying the company of total strangers in ways that only Victoria could.

She had been trying to convince Liz quite loudly for the past twenty minutes to go home with this guy who had been allegedly hitting on her. Liz tried to tell her that the guy was only interested in her to get to Victoria, but she didn’t believe her. When he and Victoria started molesting each other at the bar thirty minutes later, Liz just had to laugh. So much for Victoria being a good judge of those kinds of things.

The guy and his friends followed them to the next bar and one of them actually did try to hit on Liz. He wasn’t her type, if she ever had one, and Liz repeatedly had to remove his arm from around her shoulders, touching the small of her back, and stroking her arm. Brady could smash this guy’s face in in two seconds. It made her smile to think about it, and the guy leaned in, taking it as encouragement.

“No, really. No, thanks,” Liz said, and walked away. She giggled the whole way to the bathroom to locate her roommate. Only two months ago, she would have stayed and been miserable enduring his unwanted attention. It was liberating to feel comfortable enough to stand up for herself. She didn’t need to spare his drunk feelings just because he couldn’t take a hint.

Victoria materialized a few minutes later, straightening her dress. “Can we get out of here?” she asked.

“Sure. What happened?” Liz asked, following on her heels.

“Too drunk, I guess,” Victoria said, “if you know what I mean.”

Liz’s eyes bulged. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” They were back out in the open air, wandering Franklin Street for another bar.

“Couldn’t get it up. Not my problem. He wasn’t very big anyway.”

Liz laughed and shook her head. “You astound me.”

Victoria walked through a doorway and took the stairs to a rooftop bar. “What was I supposed to do with that, Liz?” Victoria shuddered. “The answer is nothing. I can always call Kirk.”

“Who is Kirk?” Liz asked, never able to catch up to Victoria’s love life.

“That TA I was telling you about. Remember?”

“The one from England?”

“No, I can’t touch the History department for a while. This guy is in Geography,” Victoria told her, heading toward the bar.

Liz’s head was so heavy and she was having trouble feeling her legs. She didn’t know how she didn’t stumble or slur or anything. The whole thing was making her want to tell Victoria about Brady. It would be so much nicer to talk to her about him. Then she wouldn’t feel so torn about keeping him a secret. If Victoria could so easily tell her about Kirk, why couldn’t she talk to Victoria about Brady?

“Anyway,” Victoria said before Liz could spill her guts, “Kirk is a bit older and has his own house. Went to get his PhD after spending four years abroad in Somalia or South Africa or something.”

“Those aren’t exactly close, Victoria. For sleeping with someone in the Geography department, you really don’t know your geography very well.”

“We don’t talk about that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Hold on.” Victoria motioned the bartender over and ordered them another round of drinks. Liz’s head spun at the thought of another cocktail. She didn’t want to feel sick again like last time. At least she had staggered her drinks.

Victoria handed her a bright blue cocktail and smiled. “You’re going to like this.”

“Why does that scare me?” Liz looked skeptically at the glass.

“Cheers to you, bitch,” she said, clinking her glass against Liz’s and taking a long swig. Liz shook her head, but followed suit. The drink was beyond fruity, way too sweet for her taste, and, as far as she could tell, straight liquor.

“This is such a terrible idea,” Liz muttered, but drank it nonetheless.

Victoria launched into the full details of how she had met Geography Kirk, and Liz tried to concentrate on the story, but she was having difficulty. Victoria’s phone went off about halfway through the story and she paused to answer it. Liz wasn’t surprised when it was Geography Kirk calling, asking to see her.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Victoria asked, batting her eyelashes. Liz glanced down at her watch and saw that it was only one o’clock. She still had an hour in her window of opportunity to see Brady. Perfect!

“Of course not. Go see him!” Liz said enthusiastically. She itched to get her phone out to give his office a ring. It always sent a thrill of excitement through her body when she got to use her fake name. She had hated that name so much, and now it was exhilarating.

Who am I?

“I love you!” Victoria said, smacking a kiss on Liz’s cheek. “Take a cab. No DUIs tonight!”

“I’ll be careful!” Liz said as she stood with Victoria and exited the bar. Victoria took the first cab that came by, leaving Liz alone on the street.

Liz pulled out her phone as soon as the cab drove off. She tapped Carmichael from her contact list and waited for Brady’s secretary to answer. The campaign never slept, and Brady always had someone working the phones so he wouldn’t miss anything important.

“Senator Maxwell’s office. How may I help you?” his secretary answered.

“Sandy Carmichael for the Senator, please,” she chirped.

His secretary paused slightly on the other line before responding, “Yes, Ms. Carmichael. One moment.”

Liz froze at the way she said her name. Brady had had the same secretary all summer. Liz wondered whether Nancy knew in some way…about her and Brady. She couldn’t know for certain, but Liz used this line several times a week lately. She should probably mention it to Brady, but she didn’t want to freak him out. Maybe it was better to tell him than take a risk.

“Ms. Carmichael, how nice to hear from you,” Brady said into the phone. Liz squirmed where she stood at the sound of his voice. She was pretty drunk and ready for him to come pick her up already.

“Please tell me you’re not still at the office.”

“I’m in Chapel Hill, actually.”

“Perfect. I’m drunk on Franklin Street. Come pick me up. I want you…now,” she demanded. She took a step forward, stumbled, and latched on to a bench nearby. She giggled into the phone like tripping was the funniest thing she had ever done.

“Baby, how drunk are you?” he asked, laughter in his voice.