Author's note: For this mini-series in the lesbian sex category, I was inspired to go for a drunk dream-like narrative. Enjoy!
***
She calls me up. She has never done that before in the last 8 years I've known her. Her voice is happy, much happier than usual. It's 3 pm. She must be sober. She tells me about her new boyfriend. I find it odd, but feel happy for her.
A month later, I get an e-mail. A "save the date" announcement. Underneath the card, an extra line: "bachelorette party is the day before". I assume it's meant for me.
Two months later, I get the official invite in the mail. I get a plus one; awesome, thanks. There is the additional card, again. Info for her bachelorette party at her place. I RSVP "yes" to both events. No plus one.
Wedding gift is easy. But I want to get her something else for her party. I remember the lipstick I "borrowed" last time I saw her. And I go out and get her navy blue thongs. It's her favorite color.
Yes, I actually know things about her. It surprises me, too, sometimes. Anyway... It's weird for me to think about her wedding. For obvious reasons...
No, I'm not in love with her. I never was. I think. Maybe at one point. Nothing serious. Obviously...
I buy my plane tickets last minute. I land at the same airport that I got stranded in before. I make two transfers again on the train, but different direction this time. Hotel is fine.
I'm jittery as I dress up for her party. I put on a blue romper dress, but nothing eye-catching. I probably won't know anyone there other than her.
The other girls are nice. I'm not the only one that brought a gift. We all drink first. Bottoms up. Then she opens her presents. Someone got her a pair of cuffs. A few more lingerie items. Only mine is blue.
She smiles when she sees her first initial on the side of the thongs. It's also my initial. I couldn't help myself. Finding her lipstick in the box makes her tearful for some reason. The moment is gone too quickly.
We make more drinks disappear. Now they want her to model the lingerie for us. I'm quiet, but hopeful she might do it.
She finally gives in and takes everything to her bedroom to try on. I go to the bathroom, hoping to be back before the show starts.
When I sit on the toilet bowl, I get a text. My ex sent me a nude. I think it's a mistake, but then I get another text: "I miss you." So typical of her to use her body to get things. I can't deal with this right now.