Chapter 11 #3
have never laughed so much in my life. Bridget broke up with Jeremy and for the first time in history the three of us are actually on the same page when it comes to men.
Who cares… whatever. While Didge and I spend our nights lying and club kissing, Abbie spends hers running away from army guy, aka Tristan.
It seems he thinks he is in love with her and she is running for her life, scared.
We can only go to the Ivy now when we have had enough fun and Abbie turns into a pumpkin and is ready to go home with Tristan, otherwise she has to behave and act all girlfriendy.
Hilarious. It’s so fun teasing her for a change.
We are talking to four guys we met here a couple of weeks ago.
They are all gorgeous and slightly younger than us, stockbrokers… or so they say.
“So, Felicity,” one of the guys says. My eyes look around as I wave to another man we met earlier tonight.
“Felicity,” he repeats. I keep looking around.
“Fuck off. Your name is not Felicity, is it?” He pokes me.
“Oh, you’re talking to me?” I giggle.
Bridget laughs. “Ahh der Felicity, who else would he be talking to?” She rolls her eyes around in her head like a freak.
I giggle into my drink.
“And what’s your name again?” he asks Bridget.
“What do you want it to be?” She laughs.
“Threesome.” He laughs as his friend chokes on his drink in shock.
We all giggle, we really are very pissy.
“What’s your name?” the tall guy asks Abbie.
“Lemon, lime and soda,” she coos. God…such floozies, men are so stupid.
“I’ll get you one.” He runs to the bar and she winks at us. “Right, free drinks for the girl who can get these guys to kiss.”
Abbie smirks into her glass.
I burst out laughing. “Margaritas, can I get margaritas?” “Of course,” Bridget snaps. “I want Martinis.”
The tall nob returns with her drink.
“Thank you,” Abbie whispers as she shrugs shyly. Oh boy…get off it! This guy is as dumb as dog shit if he falls for that crap. Abbie doesn’t have a shy bone in her body.
“So,” Bridget smiles at the four men, “we thought we might go to another bar.”
“Can we come with you?” the cute curly haired brunette with brown eyes asks innocently as he leans forward on the table.
“Yes, I suppose, but you have to do an initiation test if you want to party with us.”
Abbie and I hide our laughter behind our glasses.
“Yeah, okay.” The tall guy smiles. “What is this initiation?” The boys all laugh and start flexing their biceps like freaks as we giggle. “I want you.” She points at the guy who just brought Abbie a drink. “And you.” She points to the tall guy with dark hair. “To kiss.”
Their eyes widen in shock.
We all hide our giggles and Abbie’s eyes light up with mischief. “Tongue kiss,” she whispers as she widens her eyes.
“No way.” They start to shake their heads nervously as their friends start to nod.
“It’s just, we are team players…if you know what I mean.” She licks her lips for effect. Bridget and I are nearly wetting ourselves as we try to act serious.
“And we want to know that the boys we party with like to… team play too.”
Their eyes widen as they realize that she is perhaps talking about a gang bang. They exchange looks and the two men that don’t have to kiss start to tell their friends.
“Just do it. We want to party. Fucking do it.”
The whole group of seven of us are in fits of laughter as they try to decide if they are going to do it.
“Seriously, fucking kiss now. Actually, give him a head job if that’s what it takes,” blond guy snaps to his two friends. The poor two men under pressure don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“What do we do if they actually go through with this challenge?” Bridget whispers.
Abbie takes a scull of her drink. “Run.”
I spit my drink out as I laugh out loud. Where do we come up with this shit?
The two un-kissing men start to chant to their friends to kiss and we are all in fits of laughter when I feel an arm come around me from behind. I turn as I feel lips on my temple.
“Hey Doc,” Jesten smiles.
I turn and smile broadly at him. “Hi, Jes.”
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss,” the group chant from behind us.
Jesten frowns. “What’s going on?”
The curly haired guy sits forward. “These girls are going to stack us on…if we kiss.”
Jesten bursts out laughing and shakes his head at us.
“You girls are bitches.” Jesten laughs as he shakes his head. “I knew it,” the guys yell collectively as they point at us.
Bridget, Abbie and I clink glasses as we laugh. “You guys were totally going to kiss,” Abbie laughs as she points at them.
“Were not,” they start to scream. “Were not.”
Jesten tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’m going to another bar. Do you want me to swing back and pick you up on the way home?”
I shake my head and frown. “No, what for?”
He smiles mischievously. “Hot sex Doc, what else?”
Abbie chokes on her drink. “Yes, she’s coming. You’re going!” She points at me.
I shake my head, smiling. “No Jes, for the ten thousandth time, I’m saying no.”
“You know all this resistance is just making you hotter.” He bends and kisses me quickly on the lips. “See you later.”
I turn and watch him leave the bar with his three friends.
His broad shoulders and muscular back look edible in that white t-shirt, not to mention the faded tight denim jeans around his cute tight ass.
He has that thing. You know the thing, some men have it and others don’t.
Like an X-factor. That very same thing that I find ridiculously attractive in a man.
Only one other man I know has it and we are so not talking about him.
I’ve been trying to analyze it, it’s the domination thing.
After twenty-five years, I have finally worked out that I’m sexually attracted to dominant men…
too bad I have only ever met two of the bastards.
Both hot, both players. One rich, one poor.
Both way too dangerous for my sanity. Nope, not going there again, grown out of bastard-player-lover-syndrome.
If only I could get my body to keep up with my brain.
“He’s so hot,” Bridget snaps.
“If you don’t tap that you’re an idiot,” Abbie slurs.
“Change the subject. Jesten is off limits,” I snap.
“Good, I might go home with him then,” Abbie smiles.
“Don’t you dare,” I narrow my eyes. “He’s on the bench.”
“Ha, I knew you liked him.” She laughs.
I roll my eyes. “Shut the hell up and buy me a drink, bitch.”
The day after is always hell. Why do I do this to myself?
I have to wash clothes and grocery shop…
hungover. Again. It would be such a great society if we just popped a pill to eat and threw our clothes out after we wore them once, or better yet went naked.
No grocery shopping, no cooking, no washing, no folding or ironing…
the very bane of my existence. I hate housework with a passion.
I wish I was one of those Martha Stewart types who gets off on it.
I just don’t like it. I like my house clean but, boy, it shits me doing it every damn spare minute I have.
Imagine having messy kids living with me. I shiver at the thought.
I’m in my local grocery store, trudging up the aisles with my cart and my guard is at the front drinking his coffee.
The aroma of the deli is rolling my nauseated stomach.
Who in the hell eats that like vomit smelling cheese?
I rub my face and try to stop myself from dry-retching, this is totally shit.
I’m not drinking again. I start to perspire as I fight the wave of nausea.
Kill me now. I pull out my phone and text Abbie.
Call me an ambulance.
She immediately texts back.
Can’t.
I’m in the mortuary.
Dead.
An hour later I am at home unpacking my groceries when my phone rings. I got one less problem without you! I got one less problem without you! Rihanna’s ‘Diamonds’ is out and ‘Problem’ by Ariana Grande’s is in. The words to this song somehow ring true in my life…wonder why?
I used to cry when my phone would ring ‘Diamonds’ and now when I hear those words I smile.
“Hello.”
“Hi Tash.”
“Oh, hi Mum.”
“Love, can you come with me to the hospital? Something is up with Gran.”
I frown and immediately stop what I am doing. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, she just rang me and said she needed to go to the hospital and could we take her.”
“Oh…okay.” I answer wide-eyed. “I’ll get over to Didge’s house and you pick me up from there.
” I start to panic and run around frantically to try and find my keys in amongst the shopping bags on the counter.
Why do I only lose my damn keys when I’m in a hurry?
I quickly put away the meat and milk and head to the car.
Fifteen minutes later, Bridget and I stand out the front of her house as we wait for Mum to pick us up.
“So, then what did she say?” Bridget frowns.
I hunch my shoulders. “I don’t know. Just that. Gran needed to go to the hospital, and she thought we should come.”
“Yes. But what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. For the tenth time!” I scream. Honestly, I’m too sick for this shit.
“Calm down, you crazy bitch,” Bridget snaps.
“You know what, when we get to the hospital, book me in. I’m dying from alcohol poisoning and it’s your bloody fault. Stop making me drink so much!”
She laughs as she looks at me. “You do look like shit actually, come to think of it.”
I fake a smile at her as the car pulls up and we pile into the back seat. Gran is seated in the front seat and smiling calmly.
I lean over her seat from the back and put my arms around her neck. “What’s wrong, Gran?” I ask. “Are you ok?”
She nods and puts her two hands over my two hands around her neck. “Darling, yes, I have just been having these terrible stomach pains for a couple of days.”
Bridget screws up her face to me in question.
“What does that mean?” she mouths at me. I shrug again. I see Mum’s worried eyes flick to her as she drives. I sit back and worriedly assess the situation.