Katie and Tammie call it a "girls' night out."
Which, in their language, translates to:two hours of pretending to be chill while hunting for cute guys with biceps and low emotional availability.
Lucy was supposed to come too, but her roommate set her up on a last-minute date—something about a cute guy from her Lit class who"gives main character energy."
So now it's just me and these two professional flirts.
I tried to say no. Multiple times. I even used my favorite excuse—"Sorry, I'm dead inside from dance rehearsal."
But apparently, that wasn't enough for them.
According to Katie, I "never hang out anymore."
According to Tammie, I've been "domesticated by Zach Westbrook."
According tome, I'm justexhaustedand would rather cuddle my pillow than socialize.
But these two demons actuallywaited outside the ballet studioafter practice to make sure I didn't bail. Like literal stalkers in crop tops.
So yeah, that's why I'm currently sitting at a small round table, eating grilled salmon with a side of quinoa salad, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching my friends transform into apex predators.
Katie's already scanning the bar like she's picking her next victim, elbowing Tammie every five seconds.
Tammie, meanwhile, is pretending to look disinterested whileclearlyfixing her lipstick in her phone camera.
I lean back in my chair, watching the two of them with an amused smirk.
"You know," I say, swirling my wine, "you guys could just say you're here for the free peanuts and air conditioning."
Katie waves me off, eyes still on the bar. "Shh, hunters don't talk while stalking their prey."
Tammie grins, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, Care, you wouldn't understand. You've already bagged the golden boy of the hockey team. Leave the rest of us something."
I roll my eyes, spearing a piece of salmon. "Please. The only thing I've 'bagged' is chronic exhaustion and sore calves."
Katie gasps dramatically. "God, listen to her. She's basically married. Next thing you know, she'll start meal prepping for him."
I raise a brow. "You mean like the wayhebrings me dinner almost every night?"
That earns me twin groans.
"See?Domesticated!" Tammie points an accusing finger. "You're basically a golden retriever wife now."
"You two are just jealous I get free food delivery with a side of abs and that jawline."
Katie throws a peanut at me. "Ugh, stop bragging, you unfairly blessed witch."
Her attention quickly shifts when a group of guys in board shorts and unbuttoned shirts walk by.
"Oh—game time," she whispers, already fixing her hair.
And just like that, both of them are up and moving, leaving me alone at the table with my wine, my salmon, and a front-row seat to the chaos that is my friends' love lives.
I take another bite, watching as Tammie"accidentally"bumps into one of the guys and Katie laughs too loudly at something she clearly didn't hear.
Maybe Iama little boring these days.
But honestly? Watching them hunt is better entertainment than anything on Netflix.
