“Who needs therapy, when they have a pornstar bestie?” Tate laughed at the ceiling. Ang snorted.
“I should start charging you.”
She slept in his bed, with him spooning up behind her. Ang had always been an affectionate person, right from the get go with her. It was natural. She woke up to him snoring, halfway laying on top of her. His phone was ringing, and she groped around to find it. She kept her eyes closed against the sunlight that was pouring in his window.
“Angy wangy's phone,” she croaked out.
“Oh my god you slept together you are such a slut does Jameson know oh my god you're such a whore.” Ellie's voice, talking so fast, all her words ran together. Tate snorted.
“It's too early for this, call back later,” she groaned, rolling onto her back.
“It's after noon!” Ellie snapped back. Tate opened her eyes.
“Holy shit, we really stayed up late,” she commented.
“I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd do that, again, after -,”
“Ellie, shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I didn't sleep with Ang, but if I had, it wouldn't be a bad thing. Me being a slut, isn't a bad thing. Me fucking Jameson, isn't a bad thing. Stop trying to make me feel bad about everything. God, I fear for your child. The insecurities you're going to give it. Just calm the fuck down and get the fuck over yourself. You wanna live a wild life? Have sex with no strings attached? You're not very good at it so far,” Tate pointed out.
Ellie was silent for so long, Tate had to check to see if she was even still on the phone.
“No, I guess I'm not,” she finally breathed. Tate laughed.
“I'm sorry we made out in front of you, I didn't know he was going to do that. He was really upset,” Tate explained.
“It was pretty awful,” Ellie managed a laugh.
“He liked you. Still does. You hurt his feelings. You can't do that, Ellie. I don't do that,” Tate said in a soft voice.
“He really liked me?” her sister's voice was quiet.
“Yeah. For the life of me, I can't figure out why, but he did. Something about pregnant nipples. You think I'm weird, geesh. Look, I gotta go, but call him in like an hour when he's had coffee and a chance to masturbate, he'll be in a much better mood then,” Tate told her.
“I heard that,” Ang grumbled, his face in a pillow.
“You are so gross,” Ellie's voice shuddered.
“Byeeee,” Tate sang, and hung up the phone. She let it drop to the bed as Ang snuggled even closer.
“What did she want?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy with sleep.
“To talk to you,” Tate yawned. “I think she kinda wanted to yell at you, but really, she feels bad.”
“Good.”
“It's after noon,” Tate warned him. He made a clucking sound with his tongue.
“Uh oh. Satan said be at his office, noon sharp. Someone's getting a spanking,” he chuckled.
“If I'm lucky, that'll be it,” she replied, pulling away from him. He held onto her.
“C'mon, it's early still. We could cuddle some more, maybe have just a tiny bit of sex, then go for breakfast,” he suggested in a sleepy voice. Tate laughed.
“Just a tiny bit, hmmm?” she joked, pulling at his arm. He pressed his hips to her side, leaving her in no doubt of how serious he actually was; he had never been shy about his body around her. Ang slept in the nude.
“Just the tip,” he offered.
“Jameson would cut off 'just the tip' if he found out. He might still, as it is. Gotta go,” she told him, then finally broke away. She sat up and scooted off his bed.
“Can't upset the devil, now can we? You're no fun now. You know that, right? I liked you much better when you would fuck anything that had a penis,” he said through a yawn, rolling onto his back.
“I had slightly higher standards than that.”
“Barely.”
“Why are you so okay with Jameson and I, all of a sudden?” Tate asked, wiggling back into her skinny jeans. She had worn one of his t-shirts over her underwear to bed, and she pulled it over her head. “Before Paris, he was still the worst thing ever. Now you're almost cool with him, telling me to be all head-over-heels for him. Very hot and cold, Ang.”
“I have two choices – hate him and lose you, or get over him and keep you. He's not going away, no matter how hard I pray about it. Besides, seems to me, he worked pretty hard in Spain to get back into your good graces,” he replied, watching as she pulled her tight black tank top back on.
“He did some pretty shitty things, too,” she grumbled, putting on her jacket as she remembered getting tossed into the ocean.
“Yeah, but you like the shitty things best of all,” Ang laughed.
Tate rolled her eyes and bent to look in a mirror. Her hair was psychotic looking. She finger combed it all into a ball on top of her head. Her eye makeup was smudged everywhere, giving her that slutty-startled-Panda look, but sometimes Jameson was into that, so she just ran her fingers around the edges, cleaning it up a little. She turned back to Ang and crawled over him on the bed.
“You are a very good friend, dear. Thank you,” she said quickly, kissing him fast.
“Pleeeease, just the tip?” he whined when she crawled back off of him. She laughed again.
“No. Tell me how things go with Ellie,” she called out as she dashed out of his bedroom.
“I should start charging you.”
She slept in his bed, with him spooning up behind her. Ang had always been an affectionate person, right from the get go with her. It was natural. She woke up to him snoring, halfway laying on top of her. His phone was ringing, and she groped around to find it. She kept her eyes closed against the sunlight that was pouring in his window.
“Angy wangy's phone,” she croaked out.
“Oh my god you slept together you are such a slut does Jameson know oh my god you're such a whore.” Ellie's voice, talking so fast, all her words ran together. Tate snorted.
“It's too early for this, call back later,” she groaned, rolling onto her back.
“It's after noon!” Ellie snapped back. Tate opened her eyes.
“Holy shit, we really stayed up late,” she commented.
“I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd do that, again, after -,”
“Ellie, shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I didn't sleep with Ang, but if I had, it wouldn't be a bad thing. Me being a slut, isn't a bad thing. Me fucking Jameson, isn't a bad thing. Stop trying to make me feel bad about everything. God, I fear for your child. The insecurities you're going to give it. Just calm the fuck down and get the fuck over yourself. You wanna live a wild life? Have sex with no strings attached? You're not very good at it so far,” Tate pointed out.
Ellie was silent for so long, Tate had to check to see if she was even still on the phone.
“No, I guess I'm not,” she finally breathed. Tate laughed.
“I'm sorry we made out in front of you, I didn't know he was going to do that. He was really upset,” Tate explained.
“It was pretty awful,” Ellie managed a laugh.
“He liked you. Still does. You hurt his feelings. You can't do that, Ellie. I don't do that,” Tate said in a soft voice.
“He really liked me?” her sister's voice was quiet.
“Yeah. For the life of me, I can't figure out why, but he did. Something about pregnant nipples. You think I'm weird, geesh. Look, I gotta go, but call him in like an hour when he's had coffee and a chance to masturbate, he'll be in a much better mood then,” Tate told her.
“I heard that,” Ang grumbled, his face in a pillow.
“You are so gross,” Ellie's voice shuddered.
“Byeeee,” Tate sang, and hung up the phone. She let it drop to the bed as Ang snuggled even closer.
“What did she want?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy with sleep.
“To talk to you,” Tate yawned. “I think she kinda wanted to yell at you, but really, she feels bad.”
“Good.”
“It's after noon,” Tate warned him. He made a clucking sound with his tongue.
“Uh oh. Satan said be at his office, noon sharp. Someone's getting a spanking,” he chuckled.
“If I'm lucky, that'll be it,” she replied, pulling away from him. He held onto her.
“C'mon, it's early still. We could cuddle some more, maybe have just a tiny bit of sex, then go for breakfast,” he suggested in a sleepy voice. Tate laughed.
“Just a tiny bit, hmmm?” she joked, pulling at his arm. He pressed his hips to her side, leaving her in no doubt of how serious he actually was; he had never been shy about his body around her. Ang slept in the nude.
“Just the tip,” he offered.
“Jameson would cut off 'just the tip' if he found out. He might still, as it is. Gotta go,” she told him, then finally broke away. She sat up and scooted off his bed.
“Can't upset the devil, now can we? You're no fun now. You know that, right? I liked you much better when you would fuck anything that had a penis,” he said through a yawn, rolling onto his back.
“I had slightly higher standards than that.”
“Barely.”
“Why are you so okay with Jameson and I, all of a sudden?” Tate asked, wiggling back into her skinny jeans. She had worn one of his t-shirts over her underwear to bed, and she pulled it over her head. “Before Paris, he was still the worst thing ever. Now you're almost cool with him, telling me to be all head-over-heels for him. Very hot and cold, Ang.”
“I have two choices – hate him and lose you, or get over him and keep you. He's not going away, no matter how hard I pray about it. Besides, seems to me, he worked pretty hard in Spain to get back into your good graces,” he replied, watching as she pulled her tight black tank top back on.
“He did some pretty shitty things, too,” she grumbled, putting on her jacket as she remembered getting tossed into the ocean.
“Yeah, but you like the shitty things best of all,” Ang laughed.
Tate rolled her eyes and bent to look in a mirror. Her hair was psychotic looking. She finger combed it all into a ball on top of her head. Her eye makeup was smudged everywhere, giving her that slutty-startled-Panda look, but sometimes Jameson was into that, so she just ran her fingers around the edges, cleaning it up a little. She turned back to Ang and crawled over him on the bed.
“You are a very good friend, dear. Thank you,” she said quickly, kissing him fast.
“Pleeeease, just the tip?” he whined when she crawled back off of him. She laughed again.
“No. Tell me how things go with Ellie,” she called out as she dashed out of his bedroom.
