Page 58 of A Better Place

Tess is nodding her head while Christine and I are staring blankly at Lauren like she’s lost her marbles. I think they’re somewhere in the blender along with the rest of the margarita mix.

I’m not sure what the most disturbing thing to happen in the last five minutes is: Tess’s declaration of horniness, Lauren’s explanation, or Lauren’s charades that went along with her explanation. The charades. Definitely the charades. There are just some things a person can never un-see.

The waiter comes over with another pitcher of margaritas, and I fully expect him to tell us to quiet down or cut us off, but he just sniggers and shakes his head before heading to the back. Probably to put more plates under the burning hot coals. I mean, seriously. They set the plate down and let you know it’s hot. But inevitably someone, aka Lauren, has to test the theory out and touch the plate. And every time she will shout, ‘Damn, that’s a hot plate!’

“What were we talking about?” Tess asks.

“Nothing,” I blurt, desperately hoping that she has forgotten the talk of me and her brother.

“Carly and your brother gettin’ it on,” Christine puts in helpfully as she picks up another chip and dips it into the salsa before shoving it into her mouth.

“Thank you, Christine. You’re super helpful.”

“You’re welcome. I’m always here for you. You’re my BFF,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder.

Tess turns to Lauren and says, “You’re my BFF, too, you know!”

“Same here!”

So, I see we’ve entered into the sappy drunk portion of the evening.

“Carly, stop distracting us. Tell us what’s going on? You gonna be my new sister or not?” Tess gasps as if she just thought of something as her eyes go wide. “You guys! Did you know I’m gonna be all your mothers? My kids are all dating your kids! I’m gonna be your mothers-in-law!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tess,” Christine says in a moment of clarity.

“Whatever. You know what I mean. It’s like the Ryan’s kids are just irresistible, which I think would really bother me under non-tequila situations, but luckily…” She lifts her glass and takes a big drink before slamming the empty glass on the table again and motions Lauren for a refill. “…I’m just buzzed enough that that fact doesn’t faze me.”

“You’re so weird.” Lauren giggles and hiccups.

“But you still love me,” Tess replies then looks back to me like she just didn’t just go off on a really weird tangent. “So, sis… tell me what I wanna hear!”

“Umm,” I look around hoping for someone to rescue me, but all I’m met with are three pair of eager eyes. I chug the rest of my margarita and hold my glass out to Lauren to refill.

She does and says, “Good girl,” with a smile.

I’m going to label her the enabler of the group.

“Ugh. Fine. You wanna know what’s going on with us?” And then the margaritas hit me like a Mack truck because I can’t stop the words from spilling out of my mouth. Maybe it was being around Christine? Did she have a special potion or truth serum she kept putting in my drinks? “I have no clue. He’s just… well, he’s wonderful. And sexy. And I have to go with him to your niece’s wedding because I licked him! I mean — how could I not lick him?”

“You licked my brother?”

“Of course I did! He was lying on top of me, and I had to do something! How am I going to sit next to him looking all yummy and stuff in a suit and tie? And I know he’ll ask me to dance with him, which means I’ll be able to smell him the entire time, which will also mean I’ll probably trip and fall into his crotch at some point of the night.”

“Again. You mean trip and fall into his crotch again,” Tess says, laughing.

“Don’t think you’re getting by without telling us why he was lying on you when you licked him. Also… you fell into his crotch?” Lauren asks, her hand slapping the table as she looks around at all of us. “How did I not hear this!? When did this happen? Where did this happen? This is a bunch of crap! Why didn’t I hear this story?”

“I’ll tell you later. It’s a very Rachel-in-Mr.-Zelner’s-office story,” Tess says, patting her arm.

Lauren’s eyes widen, and she grins then crosses her arms over her chest. She motions for me to continue, a pout covering her face once again.

“I told him I wanted to be his friend. But I can’t do it. I can’t be Captain America’s friend,” I wail and tip back my glass once again, the alcohol tasting more like juice at this point. “It’s literally impossible to do! Have you seen the man? I mean, he’s like a freakin’ Greek god or something!”

“We aren’t Greek,” Tess adds.

“Well, you should be! It would make way more sense. I mean. He’s just…” I trail off, delicately sniffing and wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

“He’s what?” she asks.

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