ALICE Ch 242

Lora stares at Kylie’s beer with a biblical amount of envy in the hotel bar, which is becoming her natural habitat. The beads of condensation run down the glass almost pornographically. The **** calls to her like a choir of angels.

She stoically takes a sip from her cranberry juice. In fairness, Kylie is doing an excellent job distracting her from her apocalyptic stress level following the qualifier.

“She’s like a little…” Kylie can’t seem to find the word. “Like a little, the er, the aggro green billabong from those films.”

Lora frowns, uncertain that she’s keeping up. The only films that Lora has ever heard Kylie have anything to say about are Mamma Mia, The Proposal, and those superhero movies because she fancies Hugh Jackman.

Lora’s sober, functional brain forms connections.

“Are you likening Mio Mido to the Incredible Hulk?” she asks slowly.

Kylie snaps her fingers. “Just like that. Or the Wolverine. I hardly knew what was happening.”

Lora tries to picture Mio Mido behaving in such a way in bed that would draw this comparison.

“Is she…” Lora lowers her voice, frowning. Even her mind cannot conjure stimulating imagery with this. It’s trying, but the outcome is more comical than distracting. “Well endowed?”

Kylie shakes her head, eyes bright. She indicates with her fingers.

“She is a small person,” Lora notes charitably.

“Had fun,” Kylie replies with a shrug, taking a huge gulp of beer. Lora leans over to wipe away her lager foam mustache.

“I’m happy for you.”

Kylie holds up three fingers.

“What?”

“Three times. Then she died. Died a hero.”

Tiredly, Lora’s brain interprets that. Is Kylie saying that Mio’s stamina gave out after three goes?

“I would be impressed,” Lora says with dignity.

“Oh, I was. Can’t compete with the Amazons. But she tried,” Kylie says with a laugh, signaling for another beer.

“Also, asking for a friend, here in the UK right, where do I find the absolute smallest possible frangers?”

Lora gasps. “She didn’t have one?”

“Have you met her?”

“Kylie!”

“Mm.” Kylie comes up from her new beer. “She would’ve been so sad if I hadn’t let her.”

“You suicidal idiot.”

“Also, where do I find some big ones? You know, supposing the Amazons get lonely?”

Kylie is saved by the sudden noise from down the bar; Lora was about to grab her and shake her. They turn to see the source of the almost cartoonish bonk.

There’s a girl a few seats down. She’s slumped over, passed out.

The girl behind the bar keeps her distance, eying her skeptically. Lora’s not sure how to take that. She and Kylie exchange a look.

“Is she all right?” Lora asks.

“Sure.” Kylie waves a hand and goes back to her beer.

Lora rolls her eyes and gets to her feet with a groan. Someone’s got to do the right thing.