#maggie--fowler

Only a handful of people knew the true story of the Santana’s and Maggie was one of them. Having her cousin through it all helped her through the years as she grew up. The trauma from her father’s death had never settled with her since she never got much time to come to terms with it. One day he was there, and the next he wasn’t. He passed a week before returning home from his duties and that was the demise of Omar Santana, a dedicated father, partner, and most especially, a war hero. She heard the sound of her door bell, rushing over to the door with a wide smile. “Mags!” She said excitedly, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “I made taquitos, let me get them out of the oven before they burn,” she told her, ushering her inside. 

The past few weeks had been better. Aubrey and herself had joined a professional working women group in Olympus, something they decided to do for themselves and their careers. They had gotten lucky meeting Maggie in the group. The three had grown more comfortable, meeting up with each other for coffee, drinks or just girl things. Stassie had been going through too many girl things. She texted their group chat, asking them if they wanted to get milkshakes at 9 pm. Truthfully, she had a lot on her chest. Finding the familiar red-head and brunette, she slid into the booth with a smile. “Hey, y’all…” her tone was suspicious. For someone whose cleavage was on display most of the time, her turtleneck should’ve been alarming to the general crowd. She was just hiding a hickey from Kit. “Okay, fine, I’ll start. I slept with my fucking annoyingly hot ex-boyfriend,” she admitted to the crowd. “Where’s the waiter? I need a chocolate milkshake. Stat.”