3. - – Scarlett
CHAPTER THREE
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SCARLETT
By the time the cab drops me off, Ruby is sitting on my front step with two brown paper bags. My parents left me this tiny, cozy house. I’m thankful I don’t have to do another walk of shame through an apartment building.
I fumble my keys out of my purse and unlock the door. Neither of us speak as we kick off our shoes and walk to the kitchen. It’s styled like an old-school farmhouse. Light brown rustic wood and red checker accents.
Ruby places the bags on my white countertop, and we stare at each other. She burst out laughing immediately. Her blue eyes tear up as she snorts. The blonde, messy bun on her head shakes with her movements as she clutches her stomach.
“You made my fucking night! I was at home, bored out of my mind when you texted. Girl! You need a reduction or something,” she stammers out between gasps of air.
“Shut up, whore. It isn’t funny. One of these days I’m gonna be arrested for assault,” I snap and dig into the bags.
One holds two tubs of ice cream. Mint chocolate for me and cookie dough for Ruby. The second bag has two chilled bottles of our favourite wine. I set the bottles on the countertop and put the ice cream in the freezer.
“Oh, come on. You know I have to make a joke, it’s who I am dammit. What did he say when he woke up?” she asks and grabs her bottle before going to the living room.
I grab the wine opener and follow her, plopping down in the corner of my sectional. “I left before he woke up.”
I yank the cork out of my bottle and hand the opener over to Ruby. She blinks at me in shock. “Was he breathing?”
“Yes! I checked for a pulse. He was fine,” I yell and take a hearty swing from the bottle. Ruby does the same, and we sit there for a few minutes slurping back our adult juice.
“Let me guess. You already did damage control?” she asks and raises a brow at me.
“Blocked his number and dating profile.” I lean forward and swipe the TV remote off the coffee table and turn on one of our comfort shows.
“Damn. Sucker punched with melons and blocked. You could have at least left him a note.” She pulls the throw blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over her legs.
“Bitch, I wasn’t worried about writing a letter.
My anxiety shits threatened to kick in. I nearly had the chocolate squirts down my legs in the elevator.
I didn’t have time to explain.” Tucking my feet under me, I take another gulp of my drink.
“What would I even say? Sorry for boob smacking you, dinner tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, but you showed me his photo. The man was hot, and I doubt he would care about being taken out by your chest.” Ruby leans back and props her feet up on my coffee table.
I roll my eyes and focus on the show for an episode as I process. Micah was hot, but definitely out of my league. I wasn’t expecting a phone call after tonight, anyway.
We sit there in silence for a few episodes, sipping on our wine. I let out a groan, get up and trudge to my bedroom. “Do you need pyjamas?”
“Yes please! I’m staying tonight,” Ruby calls out to me.
I dig through my dresser and change into shorts and a tank top. I bring out her lounge pants and t-shirt she keeps here for exactly these nights. Ruby strips down right in the middle of my living room and changes.
We’ve been friends for years. Plus, we have the same parts; nudity doesn’t faze us. Once we are comfortable again, Ruby turns to look at me.
“On a serious note, have you thought of a reduction?” she asks softly.
“Yeah, the doctor told me to lose weight first. At least 60 pounds.” I put my half-drank bottle on the coffee table and gather my hair up. Using the band on my wrist, I twist the strands into a bun and lean back.
“What the fuck! You have 80 pounds of tit. If they take those, then boom, you lose over what they are asking,” Ruby explains as if I haven’t already thought of it.
“That’s what I said.”
Ruby pulls out her phone and starts typing something in. “Well, I have coupons for a few gyms and workout classes. I know you’ve been dieting, but maybe this will help? We can do some classes together.”
Yes, I’m a bigger woman, and I eat healthy. Normal diets have never worked for me, and it wouldn’t hurt to work out. “Sure, why not. I could survive a spin class or something.”
“You say that now, but have you ever joined a spin class?” she asks, and we both laugh.
“Fair point. What kind of groups are there?” I shift over on the couch to sit beside her.
“Pilates, zumba, circuit training… ooo there’s a kickboxing class. That sounds fun,” Ruby says excitedly and clicks on the link.
I scan the information. Classes are twice a week for 2 hours. The fee covers the gloves and hand wraps. “You know what? Fuck it. If I’m knocking men out with my chest, I might as well learn how to do it with my fist.”
“There’s a class on Tuesday afternoon. Should I sign us up? I’ll meet you there,” she states as she pulls up the new member form.
“Do it. Let’s learn to KO some bitches.”