Page 59 of Marked by the Demigod

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The heat smacks Aimes in the face the moment she steps out of the super air conditioned tarmac in Vegas.

"Heyyyyyy!" Trixie's wearing tight jean shorts, a cutoff shirt, and a cowboy hat. It's so out of place that Aimes immediately bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god it's like a thousand degrees here," she says, heaving her bag into the back of Trixie's car. "How was the drive?"

Trixie slides into the driver's seat. "No traffic, just me and the empty road and too many funny cowboy hats at the gas station. I totally got you one, and I really, deep in my heart, hope you wear it." She starts the car. "You ready to Vegas?"

"I'm ready to Vegas." She confirms.

"Good, the hotel room has a mini Jacuzzi and I brought way more alcohol than reasonable."

Once there, the hotel room is hilarious. Fake quilted wallpaper, a mirror on the ceiling and a view of The Strip from 20 stories up.

Aimes raises an eyebrow at the view, and Trixie shrugs. "My boss paid for the room, I just have to go to three talks and wander the demonstration room for a bit." She smiles, her eyes lighting up. "And he paid for tickets to the show."

Aimes flops on the bed, tension of the plane flight bleeding away. The staring, the convo with Dave, everything. "I wish I got the Vegas conferences, but nooooo Evan has seniority."

"Instead you get places like Maine. Or wherever you were this week."

Aimes stares at herself in the mirror. "Jersey and Michigan. Fucking Michigan."

Trixie flops next to her, cause the room only has one bed, of course. "Man," she says, with feeling. "Man."

"Yeah." Aimes says.

They lay there for a bit, cause they're both late twenties and don't have the energy, before Trixie turns her head and grins at her. "Know what's great about not having any guys here?"

There are so many possible answers that Aimes doesn't even know where to start. "Free drinks?"

"We don't have to look skinny naked." When Aimes blinks at her, she smiles wider. "Buffets. We can do buffets. No Rocky to be a jackass and no Kristopher for me to feel self conscious over."

Aimes huffs at the ceiling, but it’s definitely true. Rocky was an absolute shit about her gaining weight. "Man, I dated him for far too long."

Trixie props herself up, face too solemn. "Aimes," she starts, "you have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that."

Aimes props herself up to mirror her. "Buffet?"

"Buffet."

Aimes springs up, shrugging into a shirt that's at least shows off her cleavage. "I can't believe Kristopher wanted to go to a male strip club with you."

Trixie shrugs, checking her makeup in the mirror. "He's a hair bisexual? I think? He's definitely made some comments like he appreciates men, but also...likes vagina."

Aimes snorts, lighter than she has been in months. "That's almost charming." And, impulsively, she smiles at Trixie. "I met a guy. Sort of."

Trixie grabs her purse then grabs her by the elbow, leading her out. "The one Rocky saw?

"Yeah, he ends up at a lot of the same conventions, so I've seen him a few times."

"Tell me he wasn't the one who was shitty to you about the sex."

Well he was, but she isn't exactly gonna say that. "Nah. It's just...when we see each other, we try to spend the night with each other." The description falls flat in her own words, at how unimpressive it is. "It's mostly a bit of fun."

Trixie shrugs, as casually as possible. "Nothing wrong with that," she says, with too much emphasis once more. "That'd piss of Rocky."

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