AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She gets like this when she drinks,” Carys explains and waves off the woman’s rage. “It’s all noise.”
“I’ll punch this blonde bitch’s pretty face,” Yvette sneers at my sister.
“You’re blonde and pretty, too. We’re twins,” Petra says and lifts her shot glass. “To surviving ungrateful men.”
Yvette goes sweet immediately. “Let’s be best friends. I’ll braid your hair.”
As a drunken Yvette creates an elaborate French braid in Petra’s blonde hair, Siobhan, Hunter, and I walk to the empty dance floor. Another bachelorette crew arrives, taking up a large part of the bar. The women wear “Bride Squad” T-shirts. The bride-to-be is a loud, brassy blonde wearing a “Bridezilla” T-shirt and a giant tiara.
“Should I have been tackier?” I ask my friends as we return to the table after dancing to several songs.
“I’m not wearing that stupid fucking shirt,” Carys grumbles as Yvette now creates goofy braids in our friend’s long, brown hair. “Though I wouldn’t mind those whore bead necklaces women throw at people at Mardi Gras. Siobhan, go buy me some.”
Smiling, I suggest, “We could all wear them.”
“I’m not going to the store,” Siobhan grumbles and sits down very deliberately as if her ass on the seat is her exclamation mark.
“Hey, I have an assistant with me!” I announce and jump up. “That’s the lady looking at me like I’m a foolish twat.”
“Your twat is very wise,” Siobhan announces. “This hairy bitch went to college.”
Hunter finds our friend’s comment hilarious, mostly because Siobhan is staring at my vagina while making the statement.
Leaving them to laugh, I ask the assistant to locate Mardi Gras necklaces for my group. The woman looks relieved to have something to do besides stand near the door. I return to my friends who order more appetizers than we’ll ever be able to eat. Several of them are vegetarian for me.
“Who is the best kisser you’ve ever had?” Hunter asks me. “That’s what we’re doing now. Wanna guess all the answers? Because they’re not hard to guess.”
“Shut up, ginger,” Carys hisses and reaches over to mess with her hair. “You should let Tack kiss all over you. According to many women, his tongue is energetic. No, what’s the word that one club slut used? Demanding. Oh, yeah.”
“I don’t want to be sexually involved with a biker.”
Carys hisses again at Hunter who leans back and waits for the derision.
“I support your choice!” I cry and pound on the table. “I didn’t want to be with a biker, either. But, you know, Bear was really hot, and I couldn’t help myself.”
“She gets it,” Siobhan says and hugs me. “You’re so horny for Bear.”
“I really am,” I tell her, and we laugh way too hard about something so small.
“What kind of man are you looking for, doll?” Yvette asks Hunter.
“I’m not looking for a man. I just want to live my life.”
“I think I might date a lady,” Petra proclaims, and everyone turns their attention to her. “I had a crush on the nanny back in Cincinnati. She was so soft and pretty, and my husband was this big, hairy loser with fat fingers and sloppy kisses.”
Hearing my dutiful sister’s pained voice, I lunge for her and hug her body against mine. “You deserve everything you want.”
Though Petra laughs at my dramatics, she often hides her pain behind smiles and humor. My sister has always owned her beauty and power in a way I never could. Now, though, I realize Petra lives with a burden I don’t have. She can’t reveal her heart like I do. Her need to project strength and casual cool forces her to hide her pain.
Right now, the booze rips away her mask. Petra looks at me and sighs. “I really liked her, but I don’t know if I was just lonely.” My sister pauses as tears burn her eyes. “I was all alone. You remember what it was like there. I had no friends. No one to talk to. I couldn’t even speak on the phone without feeling watched.”
Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her cheeks and console my big sister. Carys walks around the table and hugs Petra from behind. I see the moment when Petra truly comes to terms with how she’s free of Brandon and his family. Her days of solitude are over. Life is full of possibilities again.
The mood gets festive as my sister receives the acceptance she craves. We order another round of drinks. Hunter suggests we keep the alcohol level low to prevent anyone from passing out drunk within the first hour.
We drink the strawberry margarita Jello shots with Carys enjoying a non-alcoholic version. Siobhan and I dance to her favorite country songs. The DJ likely doesn’t want to repeat the songs, but Hunter frequently slides him hundred-dollar bills to keep the soundtrack to our liking.
“I’m hearing grumbling from the other bachelorette party,” Hunter tells Siobhan and me as we dance to “Lucky 4 You” on repeat.
