Monday March 14th 2022

“Hey loser. Ready for lunch?”

“You better hope you never have any cardiac-related problems you blind jerkwad, cause you sure as hell are not getting any treatment from this hot as surgeon here.”

“Oh cut the crap you drama queen! If I were to have a heart attack right now, you would be the first to run screaming around like a chicken with its head cut off. Admit it. You can’t live without this gorgeousness Stacie.”

“Pfft! Whatever Miss Five-foot-four-and-too-short-to-reach-the-pickle-jar-on-the-top-gorcery-shelf!”

“I hate pickles!”

“Well you know what? There! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No! It’s a freaking nuclear effing bomb! And BOOM! All that is left is that last jar of pickles on the shelf. And guess what?! YOU CAN’T REACH THAT HIGH! So what happens? Well one, you either come crying to me, Miss Too-effin-gorgeous-to-be-true, OR! You starve!”

“You’re ridiculous…I don’t even know why I put up with you…”

“Hey! There’s a new sushi place by the corner! Wanna try?”

“Sure. Why not?”

And just like that, their bickering stopped like it had never even begun.

…

…

…

Over lunch, Stacie finally worked up the courage to ask Jessica how things had been going with her and gumdrop. It had been over a month since their chance meeting and Stacie had been putting off asking because she didn’t want to seem like she was pressuring Jessica into anything she wasn’t willing to do.

With any other possible-significant-other, Stacie would not have given a rat’s about putting the pressure on her stupidly love-blind friend. By now, she would practically be pushing Jessica to just get laid and let off steam once in a while. But the difference this time was that Tiffany was the real deal. Stacie seriously thought that Tiffany was the one for Jessica. She was definitely hoping the two would fall head over heels for each other. Precautions must be taken.

Tiffany was good.

She was good…for Jessica.

And Stacie knew it.

So Stacie sat on her this entire time, feeling like she had a billion fire ants biting her every time she saw Jessica, egging her on to finally ask that question that had been dying to come out of the moment she walked out of Jessica’s apartment that morning over a month ago.

But the brunette finally figured that she had given Jessica enough time. Jessica was ripe for interrogation.

“So…?”

“Gawd…you’re worse than Perez Hilton jonesing for the newest dig of juicy celebrity gossip. Just ask already you sickeningly beautiful Amazon-freak.”
 

“You know…sometimes words really do hurt worse than any weapon. You can really do some damage to my already shattered self-esteem Jess.”

“Shattered self-esteem?! By God Stacie! If Sigmund Freud had half the ego you have, his would be the size of freaking Texas!”

“That’s not a correct assumption to make such a correlation Jess. And if his really was that big, I would be highly suspicious of penile cancer and suggest a penectomy and radiation therapy.”

“You know I hate it when you get all doctorey on me.”

“How was that doctorey?