Page 6 of One More Weekend

Lifting her hand, Sy violently shook her head. “No, you look amazing. Don’t change! I was just stunned by how good you looked!”

A blush rose to my cheeks, unsure if she was just appeasing me or if she really meant it. But from the hard swallow that came from her throat, I had no choice but to assume she meant it.

“You’re sure?” I questioned, narrowing my eyes at her.

This time there was no hesitation. “Definitely.”

Grabbing plates, Sy plated some rice and chicken thighs for us. She passed me my plate and placed her own seat at the dining room table before sitting down.

If we had any hope of getting home before midnight, we needed to eat quickly.

But as I cut into the meat, a waft of delicious spices filled my nose. My mouth wanted to sit at this table and taste these flavors for hours.

I put a bite on my fork and delivered it to my mouth. A moan escaped my lips as the spice and juice hit my tongue. “Wow.”

“Good?” Sy smiled at me from across the table.

Nodding, I couldn’t find more words. Instead, I just kept eating like that. It was everything I needed, every bit was filled with that special Sy touch.

Before long, my plate was empty and Sy was scooping it up and placing it in the sink. “Go, get started on your makeup while I clean up.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad that you cooked and cleaned.” I looked at her suspiciously.

Without hesitation, Sy nodded. “Masc privilege. It’ll take me ten minutes to walk out the door, go on.”

Of course I knew it was true. I had to plan for hours, preparing for a night out. But Sy just threw on some slacks, jostled her thick blonde hair, and headed out. It was almost impressive how little she seemed to think about all of it, having seemingly shed every pressure society tried to push.

I stood from the table and headed to my room. There wasn’t any need to do a full beat, just a light touch would work just fine for such a chill night out.

Wheeling my makeup cart out of my room and into the bathroom, I stationed myself at the cheap vanity, still clean from our usual weekend cleaning sprees.

From the kitchen, Sy put on some music. It was our usual going-out mix, some Chappell Roan, some Renee, and a little Billie, along with a collection of other queer pop artists. Myfoot tapped along to the familiar songs as I applied some light, neutral eyeshadow.

My eyes were still a bit swollen from the insane amount of crying, making it hard to ignorewhySy was taking me out.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever had such a shitty day. But with any luck, we’d be safe from familiar eyes at Winnie’s despite it being Thursday night.

It wasn’t long before I was packing up my makeup bag and shoving it back into the messy cart. There was no doubt that I was a bit messier than Sy, whose side of the medicine cabinet was a pristine display of products that could be found in any commercial.

Rolling the cart back to my room, I looked over to the living room. My eyes landed on my best friend, who stood at the center of the kitchen dancing and singing.

I leaned against my doorframe as a flush rose to my cheeks.She’s so sweet.

Shaking it off, I grabbed my purse from behind my door and clapped my hands to announce my presence to Sy. “I’m ready if you are.”

Sy looked up and turned down the music, her eyes darted down to my outfit and to my makeup. “Perfect. You look great. That fucker is missing out.”

As the words met my ears, I felt tears rising up to my eyes. I couldn’t be quite sure what hurt most, Clay’s shitty breakup or losing my dream job.

But either way, I had to find a way forward even if that was scary as fuck right now.

I nodded and strode across the room. “Fuck her, let’s get drunk.”

5

SY

The warm nighthad made me sweaty, even the light breeze off the East River wasn’t breaking through the towering buildings in Chinatown.

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