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Before I could react, Elvis reached in and turned on the water for the shower. I yelped as the cold water drenched me, plastering my T-shirt and jeans to me and filling my shoes with water.

What the heck?

“Oops. Sorry,” he said, covering his mouth. “I’m not thinking straight.”

“You think?” I whispered furiously.

“Elvis?” Gwen called out in a worried voice. “What’s going on in there?”

“Nothing,” he answered in a high-pitched voice. “All is well. I’m completely fine in here…alone.”

“Can I come in?”

I closed my eyes as the water pelted me. This situation had now gone from bad to worse. For a moment, I had a flashback to the tiny electronic closet in the high school where we’d hidden when terrorists had taken over. Elvis and I had to take off our clothes to squeeze into the minuscule closet to avoid getting shot by them. It had been super awkward, but at least he hadn’t been drunk at the time. I had no idea would happen if Gwen found me in the shower. I just hoped this wouldn’t end in a girl fight, because right now, my life couldn’t get any crazier.

Elvis turned off the water, giving me a sheepish look. I stood there dripping and glaring at him, ready to throttle him into sobriety. He disappeared to the other side of the curtain before I could do anything.

“You don’t need to come in, Gwen, because I’m coming out,” Elvis declared. “I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

The door squeaked as it opened, and I peeked through the small slit between the shower curtain and the wall just as Elvis stumbled out.

“Elvis, why are you in your underwear?" Gwen asked, puzzled.

“I was going to take a shower but decided it could wait. I need to talk to you right away.”

“Can this wait until after I use the bathroom?”

“No!” Elvis shouted in a panic and then tried to take it down a notch. “I mean, no, Gwen. You cannot use the bathroom because my declaration cannot wait. I must do it right now, at this very moment.”

“Okay, take it easy.” There was a long pause before she spoke again. "It’s kind of awkward, though. You’re acting really strange. Can you at least put on some pants?"

Elvis gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’ll put on pants.” He staggered back into the bathroom. He must have nearly fallen over trying to get a leg into on his pants, because Gwen suddenly charged into the bathroom.

“What on earth is going on?” she exclaimed, maneuvering him to the toilet, where he sat on the lid. “Why are you drunk?”

“What makes you think I’m drunk?”

“Because you tried to put your pants on backward, you can’t stand up, and I can smell the booze on you. You’re not going to tell me you’re a closet alcoholic, are you? Because I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

“I’mnota closet alcoholic.” I could hear the stress in his voice. “I’m not any kind of alcoholic. I don’t even drink hard liquor.”

“And yet your breath smells horrendous and there’s an open bottle of whiskey on the coffee table.”

“Gwen, I’m not an alcoholic, I promise.”

“Then why are you drinking?”

“Because…I’m nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

“About speaking the truth with my heart. I’ve been putting this off, but I can’t do it any longer.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“If you would listen, I’ll tell you. So, listen to me, Gwen. Please.” He raised his voice considerably with the last words, and I winced. This wasn’t going well.

His tone seemed to subdue her. I heard a thump and through the slit in the shower curtain, I saw she now sat on the bathroom floor at his feet, clutching her knees to her chest.