A wave of nausea coated Sydney’s body as she felt the small hairs on the back of her neck prickle up like a cactus. Maybe all of the warning Rebecca gave her beforehand was really a premonition of what was going to happen – Sydney was Dean’s San Francisco girlfriend while Rebecca will firmly remain his L.A. chick.
Her shoulders softly shrugged as she tried to fight tears from forming. Instead, she got up, stood tall, and walked over to her kitchen. She pulled out a shot glass from her vast collection and a bottle of Crown Royal. She would mend her broken heart by getting as shitfaced as humanly possible.
“Now I know if you’re going pour yourself some licka, you better not be stingy with that shit.” Sarah joined her best friend at the kitchen counter, where Sydney poured her another shot. “Men ain’t shit.” She toasted.
“Men ain’t shit,” Sydney quickly knocked back the beverage; the warm liquid creating a slight burn in her throat. She poured herself another and downed that one just as quick as the first. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sauntered her way to the sofa, firmly carrying the Crown Royal bottle.
“Now, let’s be reasonable about this. I’m sure Mr. Big Dick has his own reasons,” Sarah tried to diffuse tension.
“You are absolutely right in describing him,” Sydney rolled her eyes, “he really is a big dick.”
“You know what you could do…”
Sydney turned to her best friend and saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. She didn’t particularly like that glint. One time Sarah had the idea of them trying mushrooms and Sydney woke up in the next town over, on someone’s front lawn wearing her finest Wal-Mart bra and panties set. She still wasn’t sure how her panties ended up stuffed with McDonald’s fries. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, the answer is no.”
“Go to the blogs!” Sarah exclaimed.
Sydney chuckled. Sarah didn’t disappoint with her ridiculous idea. “And say what?”
“That you’re his girlfriend and that that Rebecca chick is just a floozy and whatever else, hell I don’t know…” Sarah shrugged.
“Whatever happened to waiting for Mr. Big Dick having his own reasons?” Sydney questioned.
“Meh. I know you and I don’t know him so fuck him,” Sarah defended.
“That’s the thing. Fucking him meant he fucked me in both interpretations of the word.” Sydney softly shook her head, feeling stupid that she let her emotions take control yet again. She knew she was doing the right thing by wanting to break up with him over the Christmas holiday, despite how awful that would’ve been for the both of them.
But Dean’s dick-down convinced her not to. She knew she was on one when the next morning after being up all night, she made him an extravagant breakfast, as extravagant as she could be. Sydney didn’t even like to cook for herself, yet alone do it for a man she was in a relationship with.
Instead of pouring another shot, she took a long gulp straight from the bottle and puckered her lips, as she toasted the nectar of the gods to the heavens above; thanking them for creating liquor for Forever Alone persons like her.
“And I think that’s enough for now,” Sarah pulled the bottle from Sydney, and screwed the cap back on. She safely tucked in her purse. “I’m taking this with me.”
“I won’t drink anymore tonight, I promise.” Sydney slurred.
“I don’t care about you,” Sarah shrugged, “this is for me. I like the taste.”
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