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Emily yawned and ran her fingers through her dark hair, rolling out of bed, and slipped her pink terrycloth bathrobe over her white cami and boycuts. She padded down the hallway and into the living room and flopped down on the couch. Beer bottle and playing cards littered the coffee table, reminders of the crazy game of strip poker the previous night. She massaged her temple, attempting to soothe her headache.
"'Morning, Em." Mumbled Joe as him and Patrick wandered into the living room and flopped down next to Emily on the couch.
"'Morning, guys. Hung over?"
"Ughhh..." Patrick moaned, "I don't think there's any beer left in Chicago."
"Whoever though illegal drinking could suck so much." Emily agreed. The three friends sat in silence for a long time, drowing in their misery. Then, suddenly, the front door banged open and Pete strode in, sunlight streaming in behind him.
"Good morning, kids!" he called cheerily, "How was your litltle party?"
"It rocked." Joe said dully, staring up at the ceiling.
"And how do you feel now?"
"Like shit, you dumbass."
"Tsk, tsk. But you kids insisted I buy you booze." Pete stepped across the room and picked up one of the playing cards and pointed at a tee shirt drapped over the arm of the couch.
"Strip poker?" he grinned. The three on the the couch nodded.
"Who lost?"
"Em. We had her down to her bra and undies when Joe passed out." Patrick replied. Pete laughed brightly.
"God, I love you guys."
"Pete, next time we ask you to buy us booze, say no, like a responsible adult." Emily snapped.
"Ah, but dear Emily, I'm not responsible. Besides, how would you kids ever learn how much is too much?"
"We aren't 'kids', Pete." Patrick mumbled, closing his eyes and massaging his temple.
"You're all 17."
"We've graduated, I'll be 18 in a week!"
"Whatever. Anyways, Andy's on his way here. We're gonna snap pictures of the kids' first hangovers and then I'll make pancakes."
"Go to hell." Emily snapped. Pete simply grinned and handed her a bottle of Aspirin. The front door banged open once again, and Andy came in.
"'Morning, kids. Smile for the camera!" CLICK.
"Aaaaandeeeee!!!!" the three on the couch whined, coveing their faces as Andy snapped picture after picture, paparazzi style.
"Awww, c'mon. We need pix for the scrapbook!" he argued.
"Screw you." Patrick snapped.
"Ah, I see someone's cranky. Time for pancakes, Peter, dear." Andy laughed. Pete and Andy exchanged high fives and Pete dissapeared into the kitchen.
"You're both going to hell." Joe muttered. Andy shrugged.
"Ah, well, watcha gonna do...hey, whats this?" he picked up an envelope off the floor.
"Rent checks." Emily answered.
"You guys haven't had any trouble paying?"
"Nah. Sure proved my mother wrong."
"Huh?"
"She thinks that living in an appartement with two guys is a bad idea, and I'm not responsible enough to hold down a job. She told me that I'll get pregnant, loose the appartement, and the baby and I will be forced on the streets where I'll have to become a hooker to feed us."
"Optimistic."
"Quite."
"I have to admit, Pete and I didn't think the three of you living here would work out."
"Why not?"
"Well, you guys only graduated last june. This is your first time out alone in the world."
"God, Andy, you're only 22, you act like we're all babies and you and Pete are our parents."
"Nah. We're just teasing when we call you 'kids'. We look out for you, that's all. That's why we are so thrilled you learned your lesson about booze!" Andy raised the camera again and CLICK.
"Andy, if I didn't feel like throwing up right now, I'd prevent you from ever having children." Joe muttered through clenched teeth.
"Here's a bucket." Andy answered cheerily, handing Joe an ice cream pail, which Joe used.
"Sick, Joe! Go do that in the bathroom." Emily moaned, clutching her stomach. Joe stood up and ran out of the room.
"Pancakes, anyone?" Pete called merrily from the kitchen.

When Emily, Joe and Patrick were dressed, Pete made them a 'hangover cure' milkshake.
"Don't ask what's in it if you know whats good for you," Pete told them, "But I swear it works."
Emily took a sip.
"Disgusting." She said, scrunching up her nose.
"It works, though."
While Patrick, Joe and Emily gulped down the concoction, Pete explained what was going on that day.
"We have band practice at 1 o'clock, Andy's basement, as usual."
"Aw, I hate it when you guys practice, I get lonely." Emily whined.
"Sorry, Em, but you can't come watch us 'till we're ready."
"I know, I know."
"Anyways, I got us a gig at this club downtown!"
"That's awsome!" cried Joe. The boy exchanged high fives.
"That's so great for you guys!" Emily smiled, "Can I come watch?"
"You got a fake ID?" Pete asked.
"I need a fake ID?! Patrick and Joe are gonna be playing, they're underage, too!"
"Fake IDs." Patrick grinned.
"Well, then get me one." Emily grumbled, finishing her milkshake.
'Sure thing, Em."
"And we have to pick up a scrapbook." Pete said with a grin.
"Aw, I didn't think you were serious about that!" Joe moaned.
"Sure we are. We want to remember every minute of the kids' journey to adulthood; booze, strip poker, fake IDs, the works." Andy grinned.
"Screw you." Emily snapped.
"Anywho, we should get going," Pete announced, "Just call if you want me to pick you kids up some more beer."
Emily grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter and hurled it at Pete's head. Him and Andy ran out the door, laughing.