Which is why it’s not really an issue at all, she suddenly realizes. Sure, the kiss had happened, and it made complete sense at the time. But then she’d gotten home, realized it wasn’t worth repeating, and so she’d handled the situation like an adult. Problem solved, really.
Something pops in her ears and someone turns the light on in her head. Just like that, her worries don’t make sense anymore.
She takes Gabi’s hand and gives her a squeeze. “Gabi, I need you to really listen to what I’m about to say, okay?” Her friend nods once.
“Okay. The… minor incident with Riley, it’s handled. You were right, something was bothering me, but Rileyand I talked it out like grown women and we’re good. No need to pry, just trust me.”
Gabi leans back a bit, suspicious of this sudden change in demeanor. “Uhm, okay?”
“God, I feel so much better!” Charlotte sighs happily, as the feeling of the dark cloud that had possessed her mind for the better part of the week, dissipates. “Thanks!”
“You didn’t tell me anything! I said nothing!”
“Which is how I like you best,” Charlotte grins, and she pulls her in for a tight hug.
Charlotte gets back to work the next day. Riley slowly disappears to the back of her mind as she focuses on making up for lost time with her clients. She’s way better at talking to other people about their problems anyway, and it makes for a nice distraction.
Not that she needs it. Certainly not when the day of Lou’s party draws closer and Riley texts her a date, time and an address. And definitely not when it’s the third week of February all of a sudden, and she finds herself typing said address into her Uber app.
During the ride over, she reminds herself of what she had concluded earlier: there is no problem at all. She will see Riley again, it will be a civil reunion, and they will make sure Lou and Gabi have the best time ever.
Except, that’s not what happens. Upon meeting the group in front of what looks like an art studio, having greeted Lou and Gabi with a warm embrace, Charlotte’seyes lock onto Riley’s. She ignores the uncomfortable summersault her stomach is performing and decides she is going to be the bigger person and hug her too, but Riley just acknowledges her presence with a curt nod and turns away from her. What the fuck?
“Alright, looks like everyone’s here, let’s go inside,” Riley announces, and the group follows her. They hang their coats up in the hallway and Charlotte can’t help but chuckle at the stark contrast in clothing from their previous gathering. Everybody looked like a supermodel the night they went to the strip club. Today, for Lou’s party, most of the women are wearing old clothes, like stained jeans or sweatpants with holes. Charlotte had found a pair of jeans in the back of her closet that proudly displayed both of her knees—it was a different time back in the 00’s, even for her—that she'd paired with a faded but comfy sweater.
Riley is sporting denim overalls and screw her for making them look fashionable, because she almost makes it feel like a setup.
An older lady with curly gray hair and a colorful patched cardigan guides them toward one of the bigger rooms. Sculptures and paintings are scattered around the room and on the walls, and in the middle of the studio stands a long table. As everybody scrambles to find a seat, Charlotte jumps into action too. There’s no need for an encore of what happened at the strip club and she has no desire to be placed next to Riley again. She quickly claims a corner seat and barely suppresses a sighof relief when she’s able to tug on Gabi’s sleeve and yank her down into the seat next to her. Good. At least that’s settled. No Riley—is what shewouldthink, if the last available seat doesn’t happen to be across from her and now she isn’t just near Riley, but also has to look at her.
“Are we gonna do a pottery class or something?” Lou asks her, who’s sitting next to Riley and across from Gabi.
“Or something,” Riley replies innocently.
“Hello ladies! My name’s Rita. Which one of you is the lucky bride to be?” The lady with the cardigan stands at the head of the table and smacks down a slab of clay in front of her.
Lou and Gabi coyly glance at each other, and then put their hands up in sync.
“Oh,” Rita says surprisedly, and then it clicks. “Oh! Oh, well this is definitely going to be interesting then. Anyhoo, welcome to my humble little studio, and I’m honored you chose my penis sculpting workshop for your bachelorette party.”
“Penis sculpting workshop?” Lou cries out, sounding as astonished as Charlotte feels, and the other women around them completely lose it. Wait—are they in on it?
Lou slams her hand on the table, her expression somewhere between surprise and hilarity, exclaiming: “But Rita, we’relesbians!” like it’s Rita’s fault they’re there. “Well, except...” She nods at Charlotte and has the decency to look apologetic. This causes another burst of laughter from the group.
Charlotte’s face flares up like a lighthouse, she doesn’t know where to look. Her eyes land on the woman in front of her, who is pressing her lips together in a herculean effort not to make eye contact. Oh. So everyone is fucking in on it.
“Well, in that case the lovely lady in the corner could teach you all a thing or two,” Rita says kindly. “Let’s all help ourselves to some clay. I’ve prepared them for you over here.”
As everybody gets up, Charlotte realizes she is back to square one with Riley, and her mood drops to match the outside temperature.
When she sits back down and Riley reclaims the seat across from her, Charlotte places her elbows on the table, puts her palms together, interlaces her fingers, and calmly states: “I am going to kill you, and then I’m going to resurrect you, and then I’m going to kill you again.”
She can see Riley having an inner debate about whether or not to reply, but she can’t seem to help herself and finally looks up at Charlotte for the first time.
“Relax. I just didn’t want you to have an unfair advantage.”
Charlotte narrows her eyes at her, but Riley mistakes her anger for confusion. “You know, because of the peni—”
“Yeah, because of the penises. Har-dee-fucking-har.”
