Chapter 18 Sisters Celebrate
Sisters Celebrate
“I’m jus—just saying,” Atria slurred, “I don’t think it would be hard.”
Ruby blinked owlishly up at the cascade of bubbles that made up her chandelier. Every time her eyes opened, the lights changed color. That was what she wanted to happen. What she didn’t understand was why the lights appeared to move on their own.
“I didn’t put my lights on servos, did I?” she muttered, squinting.
“Servos?” Atria’s head lifted from the satin pillow she’d commandeered from the couch. Snickering, she gave her butt a wiggle. “Servos this ass.”
Ruby blinked again, changing the lights from green to pink.
The ever-present hum of electricity was comforting to her even in her horrifically inebriated state, but the pathways she normally so easily accessed to control the technology around her were a little harder to figure out.
“I’m serious. Are the lights moving or is that the vodka? ”
“S’definitely the vodka,” Atria answered.
Relieved that her lights weren’t actually spinning, Ruby turned on her side to hunt for the bag of cookies they’d pilfered from the department Moonset party. Broke college students couldn’t be expected to not steal from the buffet table, so she didn’t feel too bad about the theft.
“Maybe whatever was in the cider,” she muttered, fingers crawling across the carpet like a ring-clad spider. “Or the jello shots.”
“Think that’s also vodka,” her friend pointed out. Smacking her palm on the floor, she exclaimed, “But that’s not important!”
Atria’s long hair proved to be an obstacle to Ruby finding the bag of treats they’d stolen.
Swiping the dark strands out her way, she spied the bag mostly crushed beneath the satin pillow.
“Wus important?” she mumbled, intent on extracting the crinkly iridescent plastic bag without moving more than two fingers.
Atria flopped her arms and legs out across the living room floor.
The hundreds of tiny silver moon sequins covering her short dress scattered the pink light across the room.
Her slurred voice was made even less understandable by the fact that she had most of her face smushed into the pillow when she explained, “Adoption! I don’t think it’s hard. ”
Letting out a whoop of triumph when her fingers hooked on the shiny edge of the bag, it took Ruby’s alcohol-soaked brain a second to catch up to what she’d said.
Making a face, she replied, “Adoption? You wanna have a kid? Dude, you’ve never even had a pet. Try a cat first or something.”
While Ruby dragged the bag across the carpet toward her greedy mouth, Atria moaned, “Nooo. I’m talking ‘bout a sister adoption.”
“Sis’er ‘doption?” The words didn’t come out quite right mostly because she’d finally succeeded in shoving a silver sprinkled, crescent moon-shaped cookie into her gob. Crumbs spraying, she mumbled, “Don’ thin’ thassa thing, ‘Tria.”
“It so is,” her friend argued, tattooed arms flailing.
“So isn’t.” Deciding she was tired of the pink light, Ruby glanced up at the slowly moving chandelier and blinked twice, changing its color to violet then teal.
Atria sat up on her elbows to give her a wounded look. The effect of it was somewhat hampered by the veil of dark hair that’d fallen across her face, not to mention the smeared eyeliner and body glitter. “You don’t wanna be my sister?”
Digging around the bag for another cookie, Ruby replied, “I wanna, but I just don’t think it’s legal is all.”
“Oh.” Atria looked truly crestfallen, which wouldn’t do.
Pushing her bare feet into the carpet, Ruby scooted herself toward her friend on her back. “Doesn’t mean we can’t be sisters,” she offered, holding out the bag full of crushed holiday cookies. “We just gotta do it criminal style.”
Ruby shook the bag. “We’ll be cookie sisters. Cookies exist beyond the bounds of the law. Those are for measly men and cookie-haters.”
“Oh,” Atria breathed, nodding. It took her two tries to get her aim right, but eventually she managed to get her fingers in the bag. Breaking off a piece of already shattered cookie, she offered it to Ruby with all the solemnity of the temple priestess she’d been raised to be.
“Cookie sisters,” she intoned, “from now until death!”
Ruby took the piece and brought it to her lips. “From now until death!” After some thoughtful crunching, she added, “Or until I throw these up later.”
Atria flopped back down onto her pillow. “Puh-lease don’t talk about throw-up.”