I miss my nights with the girls. All of us sitting around a dinner table and gossiping about boys, talking about school and anything else that 7 girls would normally think about.
Those nights where we would all get together and just talk, it didn't matter if we ever did anything else. There were no alterior motives, no one was trying to get someone else to admit to anything. Anything we told each other, we did because we wanted to. We didn't try to save each other's feelings, we stuck to our own opinions and accepted what everyone else thought about a situation.
These were the friends that got me through countless rejections from heartless men. These were the friends that never would cancel plans if it had been too long since we last saw each other so we could have an update on life in general. There were the friends I would text at 2 in the morning if I was feeling lonely or depressed or just wanted to get something off my chest.
Are these girls still my friends? Of course! Has the dynamic changed since the boys came into the picture? It's sad to admit that maybe it has. They don't seem to be the same girls who were available to talk whenever I needed them, and they don't seem to turn to me anymore with their problems. In the beginning when the boys started to mingle all was good, but now there is too much friendcest and I don't think it'll ever be the same again.
She put down her journal and stared nowhere in particular. She had nothing else to do besides go to bed, or else break down and watch more terrible television on her computer. No matter how hard she fought, television and movies always won. Something about the situation always ending "happily ever after" seemed to appeal to her no matter how lame is sounded, no matter how dreadful the premise of the show was.
"Hey, mind turning down your computer if you're going to watch more of that crap? I can't take anymore of the shitty show you watch!" Her brother, Peter, peeked his head into her bedroom and gave a slight smirk. His room was across the hall, and most of the time he was listening to music too loud to even know what was going on in the rest of the house.
"I'll turn down my wracket if you promise to stop listening to crappy music!" She threw one of the many pillows from her bed at him with a laugh. They may have fought a lot when they were younger, but they had both grown up some. The days of screaming matches that only ended in signs on doors with swears never to play with the other ever, ever, ever, ever again were over.
"Yeah, alright Max. Whatever you say!" He winked and shut the door as he left knowing full well she would be closing it eventually.
Both of them had stopped sleeping with the door open since their mother's recent boyfriend moved in. It wasn't that they didn't trust him, it's just awkward having this strange person looking into your room. Plus, they had all kinds of little things they liked to do they didn't need the world to know about. For example, Max liked to change her clothes in the kitchen, where the washer and dryer were. Instead of bringing her clothes to her room, she would often just pick them right out of the dryer and put them on, throwing whatever she was wearing before into one of the laundry piles. Peter liked to sprawl across the couch and play video games all day, not necessarily decently dressed. Upon Bob's arrival, they had to find slyer ways to get away with those activities.
"But mom, you've only been dating him for a month! He's trying to take over your house!"
"But mom, he smokes in the house and makes everything smell!"
"Mom, he gets high and eats food with my name on it, one day I'll have a sugar crash and you'll have to deal with getting me to the hospital…"
Peter and Max were fighting for a lost cause though, their mother was too nice to throw someone out of the house. It was her being nice that lead him to inching his way into living there in the first place. There would be no more walking around in just underwear, or using the television when they wanted, or even having friends over for hang outs.
Max heard Bob's familiar footsteps as he stumbled up the stairs, drunk. He tripped and fell up one of them which lead to her giggling quietly on her bed with her laptop set up to stream a movie. His footsteps started again and sounded as if they were approaching her door which made no sense her bedroom was in the opposite bedroom from his. It wasn't often Bob said anything to Max, and she liked it that way, she would do anything to avoid a conversation about how horrible she is to live with.
His footsteps stopped and he was standing outside her door. She quickly flicked off the lights and hid under the covers pretending she was asleep. She closed her eyes and heard the door slowly swing open, Bob's panting got louder as he inched himself into the room.
"God, this room is a mess!" He screamed this at no one in particular. Max was just thinking to herself what he could possibly want as he continued. "I wonder where this bitch hid the weed she stole from me."
He thought the young girl who didn't drink or smoke had stolen his cheap drugs. It was almpst laughable, only he was rummaging through all her things and making a mess of her organized chaos. She rustled a bit making it seem as though she was being woken up by his noise and sat up slightly. Bob didn't notice and continued to rifle through her things.
"Um… excuse me, Bob. What are you looking for?" It was better he didn't know she had been faking sleep or else this situation would get heated.
Bob continued to search through her drawers as he replied with, "nothing."
"Right, well then, would you mind not throwing my stuff around? I don't really appreciate waking up to you tearing through my room." She used a confident and authoritative voice. She wasn't afraid of him because he was drunk, weak and her brother was using the bathroom and could hear everything.
"Shut up! When I've found what you took I'm going to tell your mother and get you thrown out!"
Max looked at him puzzled. Was he really that drunk? Peter poked his head into the dark room and made eye contact with his sister. He knew what the plan was for situations like this, though they'd never put it into practice until then. Peter tip-toed inside and snuck up behind the drunk nuisance. He lifted his hand and jabbed Bob in the shoulder twice like their father did when they were in trouble.
"Bob, last I checked this was Max's room with Max's stuff. Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" Bob turned around at his voice, unfazed that he had even been poked. He did a half nod and walked out of the room without a word acting as though nothing had happened. He would forever deny anything had happened and would never apologize either because in his drunken mind he had never done anything.
Max turned and looked at Peter with a smirk on her face. Peter looked back and shrugged then made a gesture suggesting he would help her clean up in the morning. He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, again.
Max was left in her room, alone and in the darkness. She closed her laptop computer and slid it under the bed with the charger plugged into it. The movie she was getting ready to watch could wait for another night. For now she was too tired from the whole Bob ordeal. She lay in bed, thinking about the 7 friends she missed hanging out with, wishing that she was see them soon to vent how frustrated she was with this whole situation. She thought about them until she finally fell asleep.