GB96 s2 - Working Girl Part 9

Stef must have known that you would be pissed. Yes, she did that impulsively, but still. She had to have known.

But the amount of yelling that you and Ellen both give her once you’re safely away is obviously enough to take her off guard. If you weren’t so fucking furious that she would do something so incredibly dumb and risky for no reason with both you and Ellen in the car, you would find it funny how she can’t seem to decide if she’s more shocked that you’re angry or that Ellen is. It’s like Stef expects Ellen to be on her side, but Ellen unloads on her harder than you do.

“What is wrong with you?” Ellen demands, loud enough to wake the dead, throwing her arms wide.

Stef tries to recover by appealing to you. Oh, now she wants to go home with you and fuck. Not happening. You have never been less attracted to her in your life. You aren’t a lawyer or anything, but if you damage enough property it can be a felony. That’s serious shit. You want to grab Stef and shake her, but instead, you slam her truck door and storm into your house.

Your mom isn’t home. It would’ve been a good night to spend in your room with Stef.

Well… you’re the one that asked to go by there. But that does not make you responsible for a completely unprovoked, extremely stupid decision on Stef’s part. What if someone had seen? It makes you sick to your stomach to think about. If your mom knew? If Mr. Gibson knew about this? Oh, man.

In your room, you go to the window and see Mary sitting on her windowsill in her nightshirt, smoking.

You open your window and she sees you.

“Jesus,” she says. “You OK?”

“Fuck,” you moan.

A few minutes later you’re with her on her front porch, seated on the top step, sharing her cigarette.

“What the hell happened?” she asks.

You don’t know what to say. You can’t tell the truth. A long drag on the cigarette helps you be a little less furious and a little more rational. This is partly on you. Not for asking to go to the bar, but for pretending like you didn’t know what a dumbass Stef is. You constantly look the other way on her shit because you love her, and that’s OK, but it’s not OK to pretend that you don’t know the truth. She’s a moron. It’s the truth.

But she’s your moron.

“Just shit with Stef,” you say, handing the cigarette back.

Mary frowns, looking puzzled. “You and Stef are still together?”

“Huh?” you ask. You were staring into space, listening to the crickets. “Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?”