Dianne was getting dizzy from the smell of aged grapes in Rosa’s
breath. Turned-on-dizzy.
“We should do this more often,” Rosa says, words dripping
from her lips along with the cheap Happy Lizard.
“Right. You really should get wasted more.”
“You should get drunk. Might grow you the balls to take
advantage of me.”
“I don’t need balls or booze for that.”
“Then why don’t you?”
A desperate sigh.
“You really should
be going to bed.”
Dianne snatches her backpack and heads towards the door.
“Please. Stay.”
Rosa’s voice works like a goddamn chain every time. Except
tonight.
“I’m sorry.”
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