"Ta-da!" Sawyer announces, "Now get that hideous light off and come sit here." She's kneeling on the sofa and Natasha's top lip is sweating. She so badly wants to fuck Sawyer but Sawyer's drunk and she's sober. Natasha takes a detour to the bathroom and grabs a collection of face wipes, Albolene, cotton wool pads and make up remover. She sits cross-legged opposite Sawyer and lets her take her pick. They scrub at their faces in silence, and Natasha feels herself cool down a bit.
"So, I didn't know that you were an artist. My old flat mate Kimberly is an artist."
Natasha doesn't want to talk about her own art, and she's relieved when Sawyer grabs her phone and finds her Instagram. She's a pretty, chubby, Korean girl and she's extremely talented. She's obviously some sort of designer, all her sketches are of swirling fairy tale gowns on leggy models. Natasha knows immediately that she does not want to meet this person, for fear of feeling totally inadequate.
"My other flat mate, Mikaela, can make a dress in three minutes. In college we used to time her. For every second she was over we made her do a double tequila slammer."
Sawyer's tone is soft and wistful.
"It sounds like you really miss them," says Natasha. Sawyer nods and cradles Natasha's phone in her lap, still open on Kimberly's Instagram.
"So," Sawyer starts. "Who do you have around you?" Natasha falters.
"Well, there's Gillian and Lucia at the centre. And my family are wonderful and not too far away, on the outskirts of Boston."
Sawyer nods encouragingly.
She continues, "I, er, see my old college friends quite often."
That's a lie, but Sawyer sighs yearningly.
"You come across as having such a warm vibe. I bet you spend, like, one evening with someone and they're like, damn, she's my best friend."
Natasha can't resist, "That's how I find my victims, Tracy."
Sawyer shrieks but it turns into a long yawn, "It's probably time for me to take my Celexa and go to sleep. Do you have something for me to sleep in?"
Natasha's tempted to give her one of her normal shirts to see it cling to Sawyer's breasts and belly. Instead, she throws Sawyer one of her old painting smocks. Natasha digs her out some paracetamol, a spare phone charger, a glass of water, and a tiny matryoshka doll to keep her company. She trusts her doll to watch over Sawyer as she sleeps.
Natasha wakes at her usual time of 6am. She almost stomps into the living room before she remembers Sawyer. She does some yoga next to her bed to take her mind off the gorgeous woman stretched out on her couch. Eventually, she gives in to curiosity and has a peek around the door. Sawyer doesn't stir. She's too tall for the couch, her long legs are thrown over the couch arm and her hand trails across Natasha's floor. The sun is just creeping across Natasha's living room, and Sawyer's hair is glowing.
CHAPTER SIX
✤✤✤
Sawyer has managed to twist herself into an extremely uncomfortable position half-on and half-off a dirty, squashy sofa. There are places where the red, woven material is threadbare and places where it's black and smooth with grease. She sits up and picks up the little wooden doll from the coffee table, turns it over in her hands.
She grabs her phone and thumbs through to her group chat, Chicago Bitches.
Sawyer: OK, so, I went home with the hot yoga teacher last night! No fucking, but only because I told her I was too drunk.
Mikaela's reply is immediate.
Mikaela: Pussy bitch.
Sawyer: I almost cried at her about missing you guys though. Pathetic. I feel like a douche.
Kimberly: Did you make any weird step-dad jokes?
Sawyer: Only one! I also avoided my fear of gorillas, my vintage Barbie collection and the fact that the only man in the world I'd fuck would be the step brother in Clueless. But only if he was actually my step-brother. But....I did tap-dance.
Mikaela: Christ, Martinez. You're an embarrassment.
From the other side of the door, Natasha knocks softly.
"Sawyer, are you awake? I need to pee."
Sawyer feels a rush of warmth towards Natasha as she tip toes like a cartoon cat burglar across the room in just a lace crop top and panties. Sawyer smiles more when she hears Natasha sigh loudly as she pees. The stream seems never ending and Sawyer feels a bit bad for waking up so late.
Sawyer moves outside the bathroom. She says through the door, "Do you want to go to South End and pretend to be bougie dykes for the day?"
Natasha sounds like she has a toothbrush in her mouth, "Can you even try and pretend to be bougie if you're from Wisconsin?"
Sawyer bristles, "Oh yeah, I forgot I'm from up nort'. I was at the stop 'n' go one time, off to gey a bay-gel and a brat, eh? And I said to my friend, can you pull over at that bubbler one time real quick because I forgot my pop, 'n' so?"
Natasha has definitely just accidently inhaled a wad of toothpaste, and is trying to snort it back out. Sawyer is glad.
"You know," Sawyer continues. "When I was working in England, I saw there's a guy from Boston
