Wednesday, December 28th
109.)
"You can't be serious..." Becky took another long sip of her cocktail, like it would help. The pub was crowded and loud with the people who stayed at school for the holidays. It was snowing mountains outside and way too cold to be anywhere else.
"We are hanging out right now!" Blossom groaned. "We hung out all week!"
"But hanging out and spending New Years together are different!" Becky argued.
"It's the way the cards fell. I didn't put New Years on a Sunday."
"So instead of going to the insane party that I am personally throwing at our sorority house. You're going to go, what? Sit in a room with a girl and watch the ball drop on TV?"
"I mean," Blossom smirked as she shrugged her shoulders, "I could always invite her."
This, you see, was what we call a safe bet; because there was not a snowflake's chance in Texas that Amy would agree; she'd turn it down just like last time.
"Fine," Becky said sharply. "Invite her. But if she says no, you're still coming." Becky wasn't letting her use her mystery girl as an excuse. This party had been planned for over a week, and Blossom never mentioned not going. It wasn't her responsibility as a sister of the sorority, but Becky was making it her responsibility as a friend.
Well. Fuck. There weren't a lot of social situations that Blossom Brixley was uncomfortable in, but she felt super uncomfortable when it came to no-win scenarios like this.
"Becks… I'll ask her, I'll invite her, and if she says no..."
"If she says no, you'll come alone. I'll be your date."
Becky wasn't leaving room for argument, but that didn't violate Blossom's autonomy. She could still say no. She could say no and it would start a Thing™️ .
"I just want you to be there, Blossom. Please." The please was not a request. It was not a question. It was a statement of fact, like saying "this is me pleading" even if it didn't sound like it.
"...fine. Fine. FINE! Okay. Fine. I'll be there. But. If she says yes, you have to be nice to her. No scrutinizing her, no trying to catch her out with doublespeak, no being mean. If you want her to come, and you want her to be a part of more things, you have to be nice to her. She's had a rough time with popular girls in the past. I wanna make sure we make a good impression."
"This isn't Mean Girls," Becky sighed. "I'm not a stereotype."
"You can be... direct," Blossom corrected.
"I will be as indirect as possible, if it makes you feel better." But despite Becky's sassiness, she was clearly happy to hear that her best friend would be attending her party.
"Becks. I mean it. I like this girl a lot. I really enjoy spending time with her. And you know I don't mix my social groups.. ever. I mean it. Ever. You know this, I know this. I know you love me, and I love you, and you're going to do your best."
Becky, honestly, with the easy part. Amy would be much harder.
"Jeeze, I get it..." Becky sulked down at the table and took another long sip of her cocktail. "Can we get back to drinking now?"
"Yes. Yes we can."
Blossom had unwittingly painted herself into the worst kind of situation possible: one where she both wanted and didn't want - in equal measure - each of the potential outcomes. It was the kind of situation she always did her best not to fall into. And this time, she'd done it to herself.
She sipped on her cosmopolitan and tried not to let her dread show.
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