Bea
“Someone’s cheerful this morning,”Daphne says as she passes me to start the coffee maker Thursday morning.
“I’m literally standing here still half asleep.”
“With a smile.”
I lift a block of cheese. “Even half-asleep me smiles over finding hidden rosemary and sea salt gouda in the fridge.”
Daphne’s hair is a wreck. She looks like she was battling demons in her sleep, and the bags under her eyes suggest she slept about forty-five minutes the whole night.
But she’s still smirking at me. “Nice grass stains on your knees.”
“Oh, shit, I thought I scrubbed those when I got home.”
“How’s the hopeless romantic vajayjay today?”
“She and I are negotiating terms of how much I can let myself like him knowing he’s leaving at the end of the summer.”
“You’re fucked, aren’t you?”
“No.” Yes.
“I can hear you both,” Hudson grumbles from the living room.
And now I’m three-quarters awake and smiling back at Daphne. “Still worth it,” I whisper.
Seriously, though. It is.
I know I’ll get hurt.
That’s no reason to not have fun in the meantime.
While pretending like I somehow won’t get hurt.
Dammit, hopeless romantic vagina.
I raise my voice and change the subject. “Why do you look like you pulled an all-nighter?”
She wrinkles her nose and sticks her head in the fridge, clearly avoiding the question.
“Daaaapphhnneeeeeee,” I whine. “What’s wroooooonnnngg?”
“I hate your brothers for teaching you to talk like that.”
“It was Griff, and I hate him too,” Hudson says.
The living room lights are still off, and in deference to his sleeping habits, I only turned on the light over the stove, but the light from the fridge is making the kitchen even brighter.
I poke my best friend. “Come on. Out with it so we can solve it.”
“You can’t solve this.”
“I’m superwoman. I can do anything.”
“No offense, Bea, but having an orgasm doesn’t actually turn you into superwoman.”
“Again, I can still hear you,” Hudson says.
