Page 72 of Dirty Roxie
Daria - Two Weeks Later
“Why can’t you just admit that you like him?” I ask Roxie.
“Because I don’t like him,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Her T-shirt today says:
Zen As Fuck
The quirky sayings on them always make me smile, today’s being no different. I look to the rest of the girls sitting with us around the table in the Dirty Darlings’ office: Roxie, Jen, Alyssa, and Quinn. Even though Quinn is not technically a Dirty Darling, we’ve been letting her hang out with us whenever we aren’t specifically planning or plotting a job. It makes me happy to see they are all working just as hard as I am to hold their laughter in.
“So, you’ve been moping around here for the last two weeks for fun?” Jen challenges her.
“I’m not moping.”
“You are a little,” Al adds.
“Fuck you very much,” Roxie returns.
“In Roxie’s defense, he left without even saying goodbye,” Quinn says. “And we all know how much that sucks.”
“She got a note,” I say, defending Ronan.
“That wasn’t a note,” Roxie scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“No?” I test her. “What did it say again?”
Roxie lets out a huff. “I’ll only hurt you in the end. I’m sorry.” She throws her hands up in the air. “I mean, what the fuck kind of note is that anyway? That’s more like a sentence. A note has a beginning, a middle, and an end. What he left had none of those things. It was just a pathetic little phrase written on the back of a fast-food receipt.”
Jen laughs. “Was it really?”
“No,” Roxie says. “It was on the resort stationary. But still. It’s not a note. Don’t call it a note.”
“Okay,” I say. “It’s not a note, it’s a phrase.”
“So, he left without saying goodbye, which really sucks.” Quinn waves her margarita glass in the air. “And then he just left a phrase. I say fuck him.” I gently take her margarita glass from her and replace it with bottled water. Unlike the rest of us, Quinn can’t hold her alcohol. As soon as she busts out F-bombs, I know she’s had enough.
“I fucked him.” Roxie bangs her forehead on the table. “And it was so good.”
“That’s the worst,” Al says. “I can get past almost anything. Nice manners? Must have mommy issues. Spontaneous? Clearly, he can’t commit. Smells good? Obviously a germaphobe. Likes to take charge? Total control freak.”
I laugh at her negative over-simplification of what might otherwise be positive personality traits in a man.
“But if a man can give a good dickin’, I got nothin’.” She throws her arms up in an exaggerated shrug and then takes a long pull on her drink.
“Did you saygood dickin’?” Jen asks, dissolving into giggles.
“Yeah,” Al says. “You know, a good fuck, great lay, expert in the sack.”
“I get it,” Jen says, still laughing. “I’ve just never heard it called that before.”
“Reed gives a good dickin’,” Quinn says dreamily.
“What about Mack?” Jen asks. “Does he give a good dickin’?”
“I’ve seen Daria right after a quick dickin’, we got no need to worry about Mack’s skills,” Roxie adds.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I even asked that. The man is like sex on a stick.” Jen shivers delicately.
“If I were a different person, maybe I’d share him with you,” I say.
