“Otherwise known as boring. He looks like he folds his underwear.”

“—and very much disciplined. It makes me wonder what he’s like when he loses all that…control.”

“Be honest,” I chimed in, reaching for my empty cup. I’d filled it with iced tea this time. I realized someone needed to stay sober among us three. Just in case. “You only like Captain America because he reminds you of a sweet guy who has tattoos and whose name starts with a T.”

“Nope!” Beth pouted. “Besides, this hypothetical sweet guy whose name starts with a T…his type is skinny bitches. Like Kara. If I didn’t love you already, I’d fucking hate you, you skinny-ass gorgeous bitch. Hand me those cookies, Ver.”

“I thought you were on a diet?”

She glared at me. “I’ll diet tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said last week,” Kara added, grinning impishly.

“It changes every day. Don’t I have the right to change my mind?” Beth’s glare shifted to Kara. “Is this country under martial law? What’s the big deal if a girl isn’t skinny? Is being skinny one of the Ten Commandments?” Beth burst out. “Food will never judge me. Food loves me, and I love food.” She rose quickly and snatched the brownies from the coffee table.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have thunder thighs,” Beth continued, returning to the couch and glaring at Kara’s long, thin legs. “Do you know how difficult it is to get jeans that don’t make your legs look like fat sausages about to burst from their casings?”

“Or jeans that fit your legs but get stuck halfway up your butt,” I added helpfully.

“It’s a great thing,” Kara interrupted, glaring at us, “that your fat asses fill up the spaces in your jeans. It’s a great thing a dress doesn’t droop down your chest because you have no tits to hold it up. It’s a great thing—”

Beth cut off Kara’s speech, continuing enthusiastically as if Kara hadn’t spoken. “Or jeans that fit your fat thighs and huge butt perfectly, but hang really loose on the waist.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“Screw it!” Kara burst out. “You know what? We’re all beautiful, badass bitches. Huge tits or no tits, huge ass or flat ass, we rule. We should be proud and loud about our bodies. They’re works of art.”

“Amen,” I agreed.

“Damn right. And if a dumb geek can’t see that, that’s his loss,” Beth added.

“Amen again,” I said.

“No matter how sweet or thoughtful he is. And how klutzy and cute and adorable he is whenever he spills his coffee. Or buttons his shirt wrong or… I’m totally not describing Theo. There are so many guys out there who are like that.”

“Sure, Betty,” Kara winked.

“Don’t call me Betty. Theo calls me Betty Boop.” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Please, make me stop. Make my mouth stop.”

“Just keep stuffing it with food,” I suggested.

Kara reached for the pitcher of rum and Coke, but when she found it empty, she slumped back in her seat, deflated. “I’m too lazy to make more.” She turned to me, scrunching her face pitifully.

I sighed. “I’ll make more. Be right back.”

Kara smiled at me goofily. “I love you.”

“Ver, can you bring some cookies, please? Please? Please? And more chips too,” Beth drawled, her eyes half-closed. She was clearly drunk.

“Hey, sugar,” Kara teased. “Put on a movie.”

“Why do I have to get up? I’m comfortable. You’re the one who owns the apartment. I’m a visitor. You should serve me and—”

Shaking my head, I left them to argue. Five minutes later, I could hear the sounds of a movie playing from the living room. Kara drunkenly cheered, “Woop! Woop! Magic Mike, baby. Give Mama some love!”

Laughing, I finished making the rum and Coke. Pitcher in one hand, three bags of chips in the other, and a bag of cookies in the crook of my arm, I proceeded to the living room.

“I’m not getting up again after this…” I trailed off when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. Setting everything on the coffee table, I picked up my phone. It was a text from Caleb.