chickadee
New Yorker
Guess what's back? Yay! This chapter's not very long but I'm getting back into it and the next one will be a lot longer, I imagine! So I hope people still like this fic, hehe.
It's all not true, kids!
Chapter 14
Oh, hello. Welcome back to my little world of le crazy. I’ve been spending the past couple of days worrying about/wanting to run away from/feeling like exploding over the prospect of spending Friday night at Larry’s. Remember? If you recall, he made some flirtatious comment about us sharing a bed and me going to his on Friday… Well, how was I to know he was being serious? Okay, I sort of half-hoped, because only half of me wants to go. Like, I do want to, but the idea of him seeing me naked isn’t exactly filling me with all kinds of joy. It’s Larry! Gorgeous, perfectly-formed Larry! And me. And I’m sorry to shatter any illusions you may have formed of me, dear reader, but I’m not gorgeous and I am certainly not perfectly-formed. I hate my belly, for example. And my feet are disgusting.
Now, y’see my concern? I pop along to Larry’s on Friday, he and I get a bit undressed and he changes his mind. It might happen! I mean, think about it. I’m nowhere near a supermodel type. Why would he be interested?
I guess I should accept that he is interested on the basis that he kissed me and he suggested Friday. But GAH and double GAH. It doesn’t half scare the shit out of me.
Plus, my parents are coming back on Saturday and if I’m not home to greet them they’re gonna get suspicious, folks. And you’ll know from experience, suspicious folks aren’t a good thing. You end up with Questions of a Probing Nature (aka ‘poking their noses in where they’re not wanted thanksverymuch’) and general raised eyebrows and the tracking of your movements for the foreseeable future. Never mind that I’m old enough to look after myself. It would make no difference if I was fifty.
Bleh.
And then, just as my head is going to explode from all the anxiety and Larry-ness, the phone rings. I leap off the sofa (okay, let’s not lie here, I actually grunt and moan and struggle to get up and take about five hours to reach the damn phone) and pick up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Rach, it’s Adele, how’s things?”
Adele, by the way, knows things went well with Larry but I didn’t tell her about Friday. She’s Miss Sexual Experience these days and if she knew, I don’t think it would be helpful. Except she might give me tips and buy me condoms or something. Nah, even that isn’t worth the risk.
So I can’t really blame her when she asks me, after I’ve replied that I’m fine (why is it, even if you’re not fine, you say you’re fine?), if I want to come to her and Dan’s six-month-anniversary party. I refrain from asking why she is having an anniversary party when they’re not married, and instead um and arr my way around, trying to decide how to escape without telling her about Larry.
“Party?” I end up echoing pathetically, while my addled brain cranks into a very slow gear. Bloody useless thing that it is.
“Yeah, a party Rach, you do remember what that is? I know it’s been a while but come on.” She laughs, not totally unkindly, and I force a laugh too. “Please, Rach, please come? It’ll be fun and we haven’t been pissed together in absolutely ages. Dan’s inviting all his mates and I need to up the girl count!”
Ah my God. Talk about the horns of a dilemma (or something). Night with Larry (which I’m not looking forward to that much anyway) or night with Adele and her screechy college friends (which I wouldn’t be looking forward to either but at least no one there would expect to shag me). Hmm.
Or I could do both…
Sometimes, even if I say so myself, I have moments of genius.
Does this sound like a plan to you? I go to Adele’s party where there will be lots of alcohol, I get suitably drunk on said alcohol and maybe make an arse of myself dancing ‘cause that’s always fun. Then I go to Larry’s and I won’t be sober enough to care about how I look and stuff and then the sex will be incredible. Larry will wonder where I’ve been all his life and we’ll wake up in the morning and stay in bed ALL DAY.
Well, it’s a plan of sorts.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll come for a little while. Not for long ‘cause my mum and dad are back on Saturday morning.”
“Oh, yay!” Adele sounds genuinely happy and I smile despite myself. “Great. We’re starting around seven so just drop by whenever. I have to go, Dan’s taking me shopping. See you on Friday!” And she hangs up.
I’m left thinking, if I play my cards right I could have a boyfriend to take me shopping. And he’s got a lot more money than Dan does…
Oh, I’m joking. I’m no gold digger. I’m just bloody terrified.
TBC!!
It's all not true, kids!
Chapter 14
Oh, hello. Welcome back to my little world of le crazy. I’ve been spending the past couple of days worrying about/wanting to run away from/feeling like exploding over the prospect of spending Friday night at Larry’s. Remember? If you recall, he made some flirtatious comment about us sharing a bed and me going to his on Friday… Well, how was I to know he was being serious? Okay, I sort of half-hoped, because only half of me wants to go. Like, I do want to, but the idea of him seeing me naked isn’t exactly filling me with all kinds of joy. It’s Larry! Gorgeous, perfectly-formed Larry! And me. And I’m sorry to shatter any illusions you may have formed of me, dear reader, but I’m not gorgeous and I am certainly not perfectly-formed. I hate my belly, for example. And my feet are disgusting.
Now, y’see my concern? I pop along to Larry’s on Friday, he and I get a bit undressed and he changes his mind. It might happen! I mean, think about it. I’m nowhere near a supermodel type. Why would he be interested?
I guess I should accept that he is interested on the basis that he kissed me and he suggested Friday. But GAH and double GAH. It doesn’t half scare the shit out of me.
Plus, my parents are coming back on Saturday and if I’m not home to greet them they’re gonna get suspicious, folks. And you’ll know from experience, suspicious folks aren’t a good thing. You end up with Questions of a Probing Nature (aka ‘poking their noses in where they’re not wanted thanksverymuch’) and general raised eyebrows and the tracking of your movements for the foreseeable future. Never mind that I’m old enough to look after myself. It would make no difference if I was fifty.
Bleh.
And then, just as my head is going to explode from all the anxiety and Larry-ness, the phone rings. I leap off the sofa (okay, let’s not lie here, I actually grunt and moan and struggle to get up and take about five hours to reach the damn phone) and pick up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Rach, it’s Adele, how’s things?”
Adele, by the way, knows things went well with Larry but I didn’t tell her about Friday. She’s Miss Sexual Experience these days and if she knew, I don’t think it would be helpful. Except she might give me tips and buy me condoms or something. Nah, even that isn’t worth the risk.
So I can’t really blame her when she asks me, after I’ve replied that I’m fine (why is it, even if you’re not fine, you say you’re fine?), if I want to come to her and Dan’s six-month-anniversary party. I refrain from asking why she is having an anniversary party when they’re not married, and instead um and arr my way around, trying to decide how to escape without telling her about Larry.
“Party?” I end up echoing pathetically, while my addled brain cranks into a very slow gear. Bloody useless thing that it is.
“Yeah, a party Rach, you do remember what that is? I know it’s been a while but come on.” She laughs, not totally unkindly, and I force a laugh too. “Please, Rach, please come? It’ll be fun and we haven’t been pissed together in absolutely ages. Dan’s inviting all his mates and I need to up the girl count!”
Ah my God. Talk about the horns of a dilemma (or something). Night with Larry (which I’m not looking forward to that much anyway) or night with Adele and her screechy college friends (which I wouldn’t be looking forward to either but at least no one there would expect to shag me). Hmm.
Or I could do both…
Sometimes, even if I say so myself, I have moments of genius.
Does this sound like a plan to you? I go to Adele’s party where there will be lots of alcohol, I get suitably drunk on said alcohol and maybe make an arse of myself dancing ‘cause that’s always fun. Then I go to Larry’s and I won’t be sober enough to care about how I look and stuff and then the sex will be incredible. Larry will wonder where I’ve been all his life and we’ll wake up in the morning and stay in bed ALL DAY.
Well, it’s a plan of sorts.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll come for a little while. Not for long ‘cause my mum and dad are back on Saturday morning.”
“Oh, yay!” Adele sounds genuinely happy and I smile despite myself. “Great. We’re starting around seven so just drop by whenever. I have to go, Dan’s taking me shopping. See you on Friday!” And she hangs up.
I’m left thinking, if I play my cards right I could have a boyfriend to take me shopping. And he’s got a lot more money than Dan does…
Oh, I’m joking. I’m no gold digger. I’m just bloody terrified.
TBC!!
Great chapter - I'm so glad you've picked this up again! 
