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Today, dark circles sit beneath slightly bloodshot eyes, barely disguised by a rushed swipe of concealer. Her hair looks like she only had a second to run a brush through it this morning, and her makeup doesn’t seem to have gotten much more attention either. If I had to guess, half of it was probably applied in the rearview mirror on her way over here.

Even her clothes seem hastily thrown together. Her dress is slightly wrinkled, with a faint stain near the hem she either hasn’t noticed or couldn’t be bothered to care about. Her heels aren’t faring much better, scuffed at the toes and worn around the edges.

It’s like, somewhere along the way, the girl who never left the house looking anything less than perfect stopped having the time or energy to care. From the tired lines etched into her face to the chipped polish on her nails, everything about her screams exhaustion.

A better person might feel some sympathy seeing someone from their past looking like they’ve been through the wringer. And as much as I’d like to think I’m capable of that kind of empathy, when it comes to Brooke, it seems I’m fresh out.

“Be nice, Sydney. Brooke just had a baby,” Amber comes to Brooke’s defense, but the corners of her mouth twitch as if fighting back a smile.

“Another one? Isn’t that like your fifth?”

“You know perfectly well it’s only my third,” Brooke mutters.

“Did you just say only?!” Sydney laughs, and this time, Amber makes no effort to hide her smirk. “Word of advice,” she continues. “If you ever want to keep the baby weight off, you’re going to have to seal your mouth shut as well as your legs.”

“At least the man I’m sleeping with put a ring on my finger,” she mumbles in defiance.

Sydney’s smile disappears. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“I think she said that at least she has a husband,” Amber supplies before Brooke can work up the courage to repeat herself.

“Please.” Sydney waves her off. “I could have a Doug in my life if I were willing to settle too.”

Brooke turns every shade in the crayon set.

“I didn’t settle.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Sydney gives her another once-over. “But this,” she says, drawing a wide circle in the air around Brooke’s body with one finger, as if highlighting everything she finds wrong with her, “is what happens when you go all trad wife for a second-rate car salesman. You stop taking care of yourself because you’re too busy taking care of him and his kids.”

“First of all, they’re my kids too. And second, I do take care of myself.”

“Sure, you do.” Sydney holds her hands out on either side of her waist, widening them in an exaggerated imitation of Brooke’s figure.

“I just had a baby, for fuck’s sake.”

“And?”

Brooke’s jaw tightens.

“You know, for someone who spends as much time on her back as you do, you’d think you’d be a little less judgmental.”

Amber chokes on her mimosa while Sydney’s eyes narrow.

“Careful, Brooke.”

Brooke’s bravado falters, but she doesn’t back down completely.

“I’m just saying.”

“No. You were trying to be cute and get in a little dig, insinuating that I sleep around.” Sydney takes a slow sip of her mimosa, never taking her sights off Brooke. “If you’re going to grow a backbone after all these years, at least have the balls to own it.”

Brooke looks away. “Whatever.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sydney’s gaze drags over her again, a cruel smile returning to her lips. “Cow.”

Brooke’s head snaps back around. “Whore.”

“Okay, ladies. Maybe dial it back before you make a scene. Remember where you are,” Amber cuts in, stopping them both from getting another word out. “Besides, we should all be mourning our friend’s untimely death, not be at each other’s throats.”