Page 79 of The End of Summer

“Hey, girl!” Indigo hollers. “Cherry’s right behind us. She had to stop for some yogurt or something because she didn’t think her body could handle pizza after the appendicitis issue,” she explains.

“So, feel free to join us,” Saffron adds. “We can’t finish a whole pie before a party.”

“I’ll bloat,” Indigo laughs.

I grab a slice and sit with them. Cherry walks in moments later.

“Hey!” I say. “You look great. How’s the patient?”

“I think I’m finally ready to dance again,” she says. “No climbing, just to be safe, but I think I can do the basics and teach the choreo and all that.”

“Thank God,” I say. “I’ll be more than happy to go back to my role of partysitter.”

“Dress to pole anyway, though,” Cherry says. “Just in case I need backup or start to feel less than wonderful, okay?”

“No worries,” I reply. “So, your stitches are all healed, then?”

Cherry pulls down the left side of her sweatpants to show us her scar. “They’re mostly dissolved, yeah.”

“That looks badass, Cher,” Saffron says.

Indigo giggles. “When people ask, you should tell them you got in a knife fight.”

“I hate the way it looks. Eventually, I’ll probably get a tattoo to cover it.”

“It’s not bad,” I say. “I’m sure the scarring will fade.”

“All I can say is thank God for the high rise trend,” she says, pulling her pants back up. “I can still wear bikinis and booty shorts.”

“Amen,” Saffron offers, chewing on the crust of her pizza slice.

The girls finish eating and then change into their eveningwear, which is as much of a process as ever. I obsessively check on the shots in the fridge, but, like the saying goes,A watched pot never boils. I can’t get my shots to cook faster. By 7:50, I realize this is actually going to be an issue. I pull Cherry off a pole, where she’s warming up.

“Cher. We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s up?”

“The shots aren’t ready.”

“When did you prep them?”

I sigh. “About 90 minutes ago.”

“Well, that explains it.”

“What should I do?”

Cherry shrugs. “I’m not sure. This has never happened before.”

“I would've had them done on time, but my car got a flat and I had to wait for Brady and switch cars and it took up a bunch of time,” I wail.

“Okay, relax. Listen, the girls paid for a good time, so we’ll just give them one. We good on alcohol?”

“Yeah, we’ve got cases in the back.”

“Then just run the party using regular shots. Nobody will complain.”

“We’re going to burn through bottles way faster that way.”

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