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That explained it, then. This note wasn't for me at al. The
ink had smeared a little, turning the one into a passable
version of a four, if you weren't paying close attention.
Someone had stuffed this into my mailbox,
mistake.
At least it wasn't another baby shower or wedding
invitation from 'friends' I hadn't seen in the past few years.
I wasn't a fan of being put on a loot-gathering mailing list
just because once upon a time we'd been in a math class
together.
'What's that?' Kira had come up behind me in a cloud of
cigarette odor and now dug her chin into my shoulder.
I don't know why I didn't want to show her, but I closed
the card and slipped it back into the envelope, then found
the right mailbox and shoved it through the slot. I peeked
into the glass window and saw it resting inside the metal
cave, slim and single and alone.
'Nothing. It wasn't for me.'
'C'mon then, whore. Let's get upstairs. We have a
'C'mon then, whore. Let's get upstairs. We have a
threesome with Jose, Jack and Jim.' She held up the
clanking paper grocery sack containing the bottles.
Every woman should have a slutty friend. The one who
makes her feel better about herself. Because no matter
how drunk she got the night before, or how many guys she
made out with at that party, or how short her skirt is, that
slutty friend wil always have been…wel…sluttier.
Kira and I had traded that role back and forth over the
years, a fact I would never be proud of but couldn't hide.
'It's not even eight o'clock. Things don't start jumping until
at least eleven.'
'Which is why I stopped at the liquor store.' She looked
around the lobby and raised both eyebrows. 'Wow.
Nice.'
I looked, too. I always did, even though I'd memorized
nearly every tile in the floor. 'Thanks. C'mon, let's grab the
elevator.'
She had to have been as equaly impressed with my
apartment, but she didn't say so. She swept through it,
opening cupboard doors and looking in my medicine
cabinet, and when it came time to eat the subs we'd
bought for dinner she made a show of setting my scarred
kitchen table with real plates instead of paper. But she
didn't tel me it was nice.
It was almost like old times as we giggled over our food
and watched reality TV at the same time. I hadn't forgotten
what a bizarre and hilarious sense of humor Kira had, but
it had been a long time since I laughed so hard my stomach
clenched into knots. I was suddenly glad I'd invited her
