Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“Go out to get drunk instead of staying in?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll pass. Puking in public isn’t a good look for me.”
She scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ve never puked in your
life. You have zero gag reflex.”
“That’s a very strange thing to know about me.”
“There are no secrets here, babe. We’ve been best friends
since before we had pubes.”
I say drily, “How touching. I can see the Hallmark card
now.”
She ignores me. “Also, I’m buying. That should appeal to
your inner Scrooge.”
“Are you trying to tell me I’m cheap?”
“Exhibit A: you regifted me a twenty-dollar Outback
Steakhouse gift certificate for Christmas last year.”
“That was a joke!”
“Hmm.” She’s unconvinced.
“You’re supposed to regift it to someone else, I’ve told you
that. It’s a thing. It’s funny.”
“Yes, if your frontal lobe was damaged in a terrible car
accident, it’s funny. For the rest of us with functioning brains,
it’s not.”
My sigh is big and dramatic. “Fine. This year, I’ll buy you
a cashmere sweater. Satisfied?”
“I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“No. I’m not going out tonight.”
She says firmly, “I’m not letting you sit at home for
another anniversary of your rehearsal dinner that never was,
getting wasted on the champagne you were supposed to have
at your wedding reception.”
She leaves the rest unsaid, but it hangs heavily in the air
between us anyway.