The girls are startled by a knock at the door.

The two girls sat on the couch, transfixed by the movie, when Dawn let out a pensive sigh.

"I know sweetie, I know" Jasmine comforted. "It'll be ok, before you know it, you will have forgotten all about that jerk, and be on to the next one."

Dawn looked at Jasmine through a half annoyed smirk, then finally broke down to allow for a full grin.

"See that, doing better already," she continued.

Dawn let out a heavier sigh and slid her body into the fetal position on the couch, laying her head in Jasmine's lap.

"It's just, oh, I don't know anymore," Dawn breathed dejectedly. "You think you know someone, and they go and fuck your sister. I'm supposed to be fine with that, though. Really, it's not supposed to bother me in the least. Just because he's always had a thing for her. You know, if he had a brother, and he was halfway decent looking, I'd sleep with him, just to get back at him. Or maybe I wouldn't, out of principle. Maybe I'd just flirt with, but not do it. You know, rub it in his face. Good god, what am I saying."

"It's ok sweetie, let it out, it's good for you," Jasmine said encouragingly, as she moved to gently stroke Dawn's hair and cheek. "I'm here for you baby, no worries."

"You always are," Dawn replied. "I can't believe wonderful some girl hasn't snatched you up permanently yet. You know, you say I have bad taste, but at least I'm not the pickiest person on the planet."

"Hey, one love life crisis at a time, will you," Jasmine retorted defensively.

"Aw come on babe, you know I'm only joking with you," she said, as he massged Jasmine's calf. "Besides if you keep rubbing my head like that, I'm liable to fall asleep right here, and never move again. God that's wonderful."

Jasmine was just about to respond with a sarcastic remark, when an obnoxiously loud knock pounded it's way through the door. Then suddenly, before either girl had, had a chance to process a thought, there stood Quentin right in front of them; blocking their view of Mel Gibson's ass.

"Why you little dyke. I fucking knew it," Quentin screamed at the top of his lungs. "I'm leaving. I'm never coming back. Don't bother coming after me." Quentin glared at the two of them, frozen in shock and fear in their respective positions. "You have the nerve, to give me shit, over some little fling with your sister, when you've been fucking this carpet muncher behind my back for years; at least I had the decency to tell the truth about what happened. You think I don't know, but I see the way she looks at you. I knew it, I fucking knew it all along."

Jasmine burned with rage. Wanting nothing more than to leap up and tell Quentin where to go and how to get there. It was not like her to keep quiet about anything; but she sat silently, afraid she might let something slip that would cause even greater harm than his torrent. Dawn, however, was not so reserved. She stood slowly in front of Quentin, glaring him down.

"How dare you barge in here and accuse me of cheating on you." she screamed, molten lava flowing from her mouth. "Jasmine has been my best friend since the seventh grade, and you know that. I've never so much as thought about sleeping with her, except for those occassions when you accuse me of it. And then it's only to refute your petty bullshit. You're the one who fucked up. Don't go putting shit that off on me, because you feel guilty."

Quentin and Dawn continued to go at until they reached their comfortable level of roar. Jasmine knew what was coming. Had feared it all along. Two hours from now they'd be falling asleep in the same bed. Back to their usual ways, Dawn to scared to leave, Quentin holding it over her head to get out of his latest screw up.
She made her way past the two of them, bickering like children, and found her way into the kitchen for a glass of Chardonnay.

"I should know better by now," she cursed to herself under her breath, as she climbed the stairs to her room. A hot tear dropped on her cheek and she moved faster to the sanctuary of her bed. Dawn would let herself out, and call in the morning with the details of his parole, and her mediations. She had heard it all before; but somehow this time it hurt more than usual. She lit a couple of candles, and curled up with her glass of wine. Hearing the door slam downstairs, the tears began falling at will. There was no use trying to fight them, she had held them too long as it was.

Then suddenly as she was drowning her sorrows in her wine, the door creaked open, her tear stained face looking up to see none other than Dawn standing before her.

"Jasmine, honey, oh my god, are you ok? "