ALICE Ch 200

After a long, awkward moment, Lora can’t stand the murmurs of the bar.

“I was drunk. I was upset,” she says to Kylie. “I don’t know beyond that. I wouldn’t have done it sober. You know that.”

Kylie nods, making a face. “Yeah. Her, though?”

“What about me, though?” Lora demands in a hoarse whisper. “What was she thinking?”

“Mate, we’ve been over this. You just aren’t confident enough. You’re pretty.”

Easy for Kylie to say; Lora was plain even before the burns, and she certainly doesn’t have Kylie’s body. Lora just cannot even begin to fathom what Mio might have been thinking. The one merciful detail was that Mio had still been snoring when Lora made her escape, clutching her clothes as though she were still in school.

She puts her empty glass down hard and waves for another one, then checks her phone.

“You fucking with me?” she mutters, exasperated. Colby still hasn’t texted her back.

“What is it?”

“Weather stuff. Nobody cares.” Does it even matter?

“We can deal with it in the morning,” Kylie says offhandedly. Lora bristles; Kylie just doesn’t understand the complexity of this sport.

“I have to deal with it now.”

“Then deal with it.”

“It’s a little harder than giving handjobs to drivers,” Lora says through gritted teeth.

Kylie blinks. “Ow,” she says, looking away.

“Sorry.”

“It’s OK. She’s actually very sweet. Alice is.”

“I know.” Lora rubs her face. “Still can’t believe it about Faye.”

Kylie snorts loudly. “Tell me about it,” she mutters darkly.

“Colby, you daft bitch, look at your bloody phone.” Lora slaps her phone down again. She should’ve kicked the door in and shoved the phone in Colby’s stupid face. No. That isn’t fair. Colby is wonderful.

“She can’t look at her phone,” Kylie scoffs, glancing at her watch. “She’s got one in each hand right now. Training her crew,” she adds with a leer.

“That’s the thing. She’s not.” Yes, usually Colby would be with the Amazons. Everyone knows, and Lora also knows that there are several people on staff who are turned on by it. “She’s by herself.”

“Oh?” Kylie perks up, then frowns. “Why?”

“How would I know? The pit crew’s at the pool. I saw them on the way up.”

“Guilty conscience. Her girlfriend’s a bewdy,” Kylie says, only slurring a little.

“Were you always this gay?”

Kylie chokes on her beer. “No. Then I saw a video of my fiancé getting a blowjob in a toilet.”

Lora shuts up.

“Another,” they say in unison. More drinks arrive.

Kylie’s wearing her thinking face. Lora doesn’t like that. Thinking is not what Kylie’s good at. Kylie’s good at running along a sandy beach in just such a way that even though she isn’t especially busty, every guy will turn and look at her. If she is trying to use her smooth little brain, nothing good will come of it.