Despite It All

Chapter 26

"Did we really have to invite them?" I groan, the tone of my voice bordering on whiny.

A deep chuckle resonates through my speakerphone, bouncing off the walls of my bedroom and causing tingles to manifest in my core. I take a sip of my beer, preemptively preparing for the tragedy that is inevitably about to unfold before my eyes.

"Yes, babe. I don't know why you're freaking out about it."

"Um, have you met Sami? Or Brad? This is going to be a disaster!"

"I kind of hope it is, to be honest," Logan replies. "Like a horrible accident you can't seem to look away from. Do you think they'll get along?"

"Oh, I think they'll get along alright. They'll get along just fine. In fact, I think they're going to morph into one gluttonous being who is hell-bent on mortifying us and subsequently ruining my life."

Logan laughs once again, "You know, I think you're probably right. I can't wait. Want us to come pick you girls up? Or do you want to just meet at the bar?"

"We'll just meet you there. Sami already texted me to let me know she's on her way to my place. We'll just Uber there."

"Sounds good, baby. Text me when you're in the Uber. See you later."

"If you forget Brad at home, I won't be upset."

Another chuckle, "See you soon."

"Bye, babe."

As soon as I hang up the phone, my apartment door bursts open.

"Your highness is here!" Sami yells. Her arms are thrown in the air, her red top showing a small section of skin above her tight jeans. She shakes her hips from side to side, entirely too energetic for a 'quiet' night of drinks and pool at the local bar. My lack of response causes her to start sashaying her way towards me—twerking as she moves.

I close my eyes and chug my drink.

Lord, give me strength.

***

"I'm really excited to get to know your man, Laur."

Buildings pass us by—a blur of colors and shapes. The cool autumn air breezes through the ajar windows of our Uber, causing my dark green blouse to flutter with the wind, lightly kissing my skin. I wrestle my cell phone from the confines of my small clutch, ready to send Logan a text notifying him of our imminent arrival.

Sami's words bring a smile to my face. I know she really means them, and the vision of my two favorite people becoming friends is such a joyous one.

"Me too, babe. It'll be nice to just let loose a bit, too. Work's been so hard lately," I reply.

A soft look.

"I know! That's why this is perfect. You deserve to have some fun with the most fun, attractive person in the world—me."

Instinctively my eyes roll, threatening to stay permanently stuck below my eyelids.

Luckily, we pull up to one of our favorite spots, a local bar. Sami and I used to come here often once we were of legal age, adoring the laid back crowd, music, and general atmosphere. Briefly, I reminisce about the time Sami insisted on trying a 'Chicago Handshake' despite objections from other patrons at the bar. A 'Chicago Handshake' consists of a shot of Malört liquor and Old Style beer—arguably the most disgusting drink of Midwest origin. A couple Chicagoans at the bar told her she wouldn't survive the brutal, gasoline taste. Defiant as ever, she proved them wrong—for about 30 seconds—until she promptly threw up all over the bar and we were immediately escorted out.