Girls Night In

Tuesday night all the girls, me, Gwen, Ree, Yvonne, and Ashley, decided to have a sleep over in my room. As I now had the room all to myself, I had tons of space I had yet to figure out how to occupy. I’d told my parents this was a perfect reason to bring precious Frances back to school with me. They didn’t agree. Apparently a dorm is no place to raise a dog. Who knew?

Ashley had just told her coach that she would not be playing the following year, as she was burned out. Her coach did nothing short of groveling to keep her on the roster. I may be biased, but I am glad Ashley quit. She was missing out on too much fun. Yvonne had originally come to the school for golf, but she soon realized she didn’t want to play and quit the team before classes even started. They bonded over their slacker college athlete days.

Ree, Gwen and I were far from anything that could be remotely construed as athletic. I played tennis until 9^th grade. I went to the summer camp before school started for all the girls that had made the team. At team camp, everyone was so intense. It just wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to play at a college level, and I didn’t see the point in bringing down others who were looking for college funding. So, I quit, on the second day of camp. Kenny drove the 45 miles to pick me up (perks of having an older boyfriend-he could drive before all your friends). As I drove away from that ridiculous camp, I never felt more relieved. My parents were kind of mad I wasted a couple hundred dollars on a camp I never attended, but what was a girl to do? I gave them a sob story about following my destiny. I got a job as a lifeguard at the country club that summer to pay my parents back. It was much better than having to go to the awful camp, I assure you.

After we built a blanket fort, got the chilled Mad Dog out of the fridge and were settling in with our terrible snacks, we turned in for a night full of rom coms and teen movies on Netflix. We watched the classics. Pretty Woman, The Breakfast Club, you know... the usual suspects.

Between movies, while searching for more Sour Worms, Gwen announced she needed to go back to her room. We asked what was wrong. She was totally tongue tied, and kept blabbering without making a lick of sense. She fumbled, looking for her purse, and weeble-woobled out the door like a fool.

Ree was never mistaken for being diplomatic and didn’t waste a moment before the door closed to start in. “Really? Gwen bitches and moans about how we don’t ask her to hang out, and then she bolts like that.”

Yvonne, being more forgiving, stated, “I bet she’s going to see some guy. She said she and her boyfriend are having a rough patch. I bet she didn’t want to tell us.”

I laughed. “Like we’re the group to judge about making dumb decisions with boys?”

Ree and Ashley laughed. Yvonne balked. “Speak for yourself.”

Ree laughed even harder. “Oh yeah. Because Allen was such a good catch. She finds a boyfriend and all of a sudden she’s the princess of perfect relationships.” Even Yvonne laughed at that.  We spent the rest of the night making jokes about weird Allen. Bless his pea-picking heart.

On Wednesday, Ashley and I went to breakfast together, as the other girls had much more severe hangovers and intended on sleeping until they absolutely had to be in class.

“What’s so bad about Allen?” Ashley asked shyly.

“Nothing really, he’s just bizarre. He played hot and cold. And he just wasn’t a good fit with Yvonne. But, he’s not a terrible guy or anything.”

She nodded blankly. “Yeah, I guess not.”

I saw where this was going. “Care to share something with the class, ma’am?”

“Okay...” She sighed. “We hung out this weekend, everyone else was off campus. We mighhttttt have made out.”

“Do you like him?!” I spit out quickly.

“I think so.” She grinned stupidly.

“Ahh! I’m so excited! When are you seeing him again?!”

“Tonight. We’re going to Mugshots for burgers.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“I’m afraid Yvonne might feel betrayed. I didn’t want to tell her until there was something to tell.”

“She isn’t that type. Plus she’s in luuuhhhhhhvvvveeee with Rich.” I cracked a smile.

“Oh yeah, because you’re so good at playing it cool with the King of Harts over there.” She pointed to Mark who was now walking towards our table in the café.

I laughed. “But he’s just so cute! And he has the tightest little butt!” I said the last bit loud enough for him to hear, and he turned beet red.

“Good morning to you, too, Kathleen.” Mark pecked me on the cheek as he walked past our table. And as quickly as he appeared, he left in search of a croissant, no doubt.