hung up.
the shower curtain whips open so fast that max nearly chokes to death on her gasp before whoever it is can murder her.
instead of norman bates, it’s mia, looking at her with a hard, stubborn expression. it’s the same way their sicilian great grandmother looked at them moments before launching into another story about eating dandelions during the war whenever they started whining. nonna didn’t wear contour with self tan or wear glittery pink undereye patches but mia does.
“are you done being sad? because if i hear this shit any longer, i am going to kill myself.” she jabs a finger at the bluetooth speaker, currently pumping out a breakup playlist that max is sure she set low enough to not be heard. “he did not die.”
heart still pounding, max scrambles to cover herself. no one has seen her naked in over a month and she’s feeling overgrown and under exfoliated. “i didn’t say that!”
“your music says otherwise!” she turns off the speaker, cutting off phoebe bridgers mid-chorus. with a huff, she turns to the mirror and straightens out her undereye patches. “we’re going out. you are putting on heels and you are touching a new dick and we are dancing.”
mia has let go of of the shower curtain and max drags it closed again and resumes bathing. “no, i’m not.”
“yes, you are.”
“i’m pmsing, mia. i don’t want to be near any dicks, let alone a new dick.”
“fine, no new dick,” she scoffs. “i just think you’d be less depressing if you had an orgasm.
max has no idea what she’s supposed
to say to that. she and frankie broke up a few weeks ago and she’s still feeling…off. better than the day after, not fully herself just yet. she watched a whitecaps game and everything with her dad this weekend, didn’t even flinch when they cut to a close up of frankie. she’s tired of being sad about shit that’s over and done. she misses things like dancing and orgasms and wants them back in her life - she just wants to do it on her own schedule.
“give it up, mia. i’m not going.”
the shower curtain opens again but max is faster this time, strategically using a loofah and her arm. mia really looks like nonna now, eyebrows furrowed together to form a unibrow.
“yes. you. are.” her nostrils flare. “i am tired of you crying in the shower and not being fun. you’re using all of the hot water and destroying our aura.”
“our aura?”
she continues as though max hasn’t spoken. “he is a small brained, small dicked man with no long term vision. you are smart and fun and have an amazing rack.”
“thank you?”
“you’re welcome. your life does not stop because he has stupid priorities. now, shave your legs and leave this apartment with me.”
“for an hour.”
“until bar close.”
“ten.”
“bar close.”
max grinds her teeth and accepts that she isn’t going to win this one. maybe she can at least not wake up with a hangover. “bar close. can i chose my own clothes or are you dressing me too?”
“i am.” she snaps her fingers as max turns off the water and reached for her robe. “shave above the knee. it’s short.”
