For the prompt request: Moira and Sherry BroTP-ing it up
“You know, there’s something to be said for friends you’ve known since pre-pubescence.” Moira says, “You’ve seen me at my worst. A small, whiny Daddy’s girl with dreams of being a cop.”
Sherry lowers her sunglasses to look at her. She purses her lips around the straw of her daiquiri.
Moira’s leaning back in her lawn chair, necking a bottle of light beer and dressed every bit like the love child of a scene kid and a frat bro.
“Pre-pubescent for you, I got my period when I was ten.” Sherry says.
Moira whistles lowly.
“Bet you had a great time in fifth grade.”
“I mean, having biologists for parents made me know what was happening, but that didn’t stop the other girls from making fun on the red spot on the back of my skirt.”
Moira hisses through her teeth. Her face is scrunched up in sympathetic pain.
“Bullied a lot, I take it?”
Sherry sighs, “What do you think? Socially isolated by my parents, overweight, and the shortest kid in the class. You know they were all lining up to be my friend.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
Sherry shrugs. She likes to say she’s over it. The whispers and giggles. Talking to others and being met with icy silence. It made her strong. She got a head start on realising that everyone is truly alone.
It made all of those tests taken under sterile light surrounded by masked doctors easier to bear.
“Sher-bear, I can feel the angst radiating off of you. Think of the now. We’ve got refreshing drinks, and even more refreshing entertainment.”
Moira’s grinning as she points with a nod of her head.
Jake and Claire are fixing up a vintage Harley. Jake lifts a corner of his sleeveless Tee to wipe some sweat off his brow, exposing yummy freckled abs.
She’s paying less attention to Claire (who wore short shorts for the occasion at Moira’s request) because her ass cheeks are hanging out and it’s not appropriate.
“You know, you two are free to help out any time.” Claire says with feigned annoyance.
“Babe, you know we’d just get in your way.” Moira says.
“I don’t want to dirty my blouse.” Sherry ads.
They both lean back and without looking at each other, knock their drinks in a toast.
