“Open up, bitch!”
Gwen groaned. Uncrossing her folded arms, she dragged her face up from the table. She rubbed at her forehead, which was smooth and shiny after laying plastered to the veneer for half an hour at least. As lowdown and shitty as she felt, she couldn’t help but perk up just a bit at the sound of that loud, bossy voice shouting at her through the door.
The moment she turned the knob, Lexi burst in. She breezed past Gwen in a whirlwind of expensive perfume, bouncy blonde hair and flashy, revealing clothes. Even at this early hour, she was already all ‘hookered-up,’ as Gwen liked to put it. But really this was just Lexi’s everyday look.
For a girl who wasn’t particularly big and tall—though deceptively strong for her size—Lexi was laden down like a pack mule with take-out containers, grocery bags and stacked suitcases full of God-knows-what. You’d think she was moving in with all that stuff she was carrying. Gwen shook her head in disbelief.
But that was Lexi for you.
“Need some help?” Gwen asked, stepping aside.
Lexi gave an impatient wave. “Nah, I got it.” Striding straight up to the kitchen table, she set down the take-out and groceries with a huff. “Man, it’s like somebody died in here, it’s so stuffy. I’m opening the windows.”
With her high-heeled boots clacking against the floor tiles, Lexi went around throwing up the window sashes like she was trying to chase out a ghost. Gwen just hung back and watched. Whenever Lexi was on a warpath, the best course of action was usually to stay the fuck out of her way.
“A breakup is the death of a relationship,” Gwen said with a sigh.
“Well good fucking riddance,” Lexi muttered. “I know you’re sad and all, Gwenny. But Chate was goddamn loser if there ever was one. I mean, what kind of fucking name is ‘Chate,’ anyway?”
Gwen glowered. “You never even gave him a chance, Lex. The day you met him you called him ‘chode’ to his face.”
“‘Chate’, ‘Chode’—what’s the difference? I learned all I needed to know the moment you told me he was a vegan feminist. Like, what the fuck is that?” Lexi made an exasperated sound. “Honestly, I don’t know where you even find these limp-dick guys.”
“You’re one to talk, Lex,” Gwen said with a twist of lip. “That last Neanderthal you dated—Shane, the deadlifter? The only word I ever heard him say was, ‘yuh’. Did he even know any others? Could he even read?”
Lexi shrugged. “I think—maybe? Honestly, I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. He had a cock as thick as a coke can, and that’s a hell of a lot more than can be said for dear old Chate. So many words from that wimp, but did he ever actually say anything?”
“He had a poetic soul,” Gwen protested, frowning. “Has.”
“Okay…so he’s ‘Mr. Artistic,'” Lexi scoffed, “but he told you your comics are crap? To hell with him and his so-called sensibilities—your comics are fucking fantastic, Gwenny. If we could use them in our ad campaigns, I’d commission you in a heartbeat.”
Despite everything, Gwen twitched a smile.
Lexi was nothing if not brutally honest. She’d cut you down like a tractor beam in a heartbeat, but if she paid you a compliment, you could take it to the bank. It was one of the many things Gwen loved about her. In the cutthroat world of commercial marketing, Lexi’s bulldog attitude had landed her one promotion after the next.
She was a force to be reckoned with, in every possible way.
⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆
Original Publication Date: 3/6/24
Read the rest & more on Patreon! For an up-to-date listing of all my original fiction stories, check out the Original Fiction page.
Girls’ Night Out © CS Dark Fantasy