Love Hate Relationship

Chapter 40

The girls were staring down a long par five to start their tenth hole. Raven stood on the tee box looking for the flag stick, which seemed to be in the next county. Finn's group was already hitting their approach shot to the green. She wandered back to her bag and brought out the big dog. She lovingly removed the Shrek head cover Octavia had gotten her for Christmas, caressed the club, smooched it for luck. The big dog had stayed in the bag until now. But it was time. She felt she was sufficiently warmed up.

O groaned, "No, not the driver, put the driver away." Balls hit by Raven's driver were rarely ever seen again. Some of them ended up on milk cartons.

"What?" she scoffed. "It's a long hole. I gotta get the ball out there." She teed up her ball and took a few practice swings. She stepped back and made a show of studying the hole in front in her. "Ladies, is there anything better than beer and golf?" Raven asked with a wicked grin.

"I could think of a few things better," O mused.  

Clarke flashed back to last night in the bathroom, that kiss was certainly better.

Lexa became thoughtful, Clarke's breasts were definitely better.

Raven lined herself up, gave a butt waggle, took the club back, clearly over swung and sent the ball to the right—at an almost unheard of angle, breaking all the laws of physics—straight into a large oak tree. All sorts of things dropped out of the tree, everything except her ball.

She whipped her head around to her playing partners. "Did you see my ball?"

"No, but I think you killed that squirrel," O said.

"No, I didn't. I think he just fell."

"Squirrels just don't fall," Clarke clarified.

"Look, he's getting up, he's okay. Little guy's wobbly, but he's okay. I'll just hit another one."

"NO!" They all called out in unison.

"Alright, calm the fuck down. Somebody else go then."

"I'll go," O said. She took a deep breath and started giggling at nothing. She took the club back and swung, sending the ball over to the right towards Raven's tree.

"Watch the fuck out, little buddy," Raven called to the still staggering squirrel.

Lexa stood next to Clarke waiting for her turn. She kept stealing little looks at her, Clarke's earlier statement sticking in her craw. Of course, she was a good kisser. All her previous girlfriends lauded her kissing ability. She refused to let doubt creep into her brain.

"What are you looking at?" Clarke said under her breath, trying not to sway. Three beers had her feeling pretty loose.

"You."

"Well, stop."

"Maybe you're the bad kisser."

"Ha! No way, I'm a great kisser," Clarke whispered.

Lexa knew firsthand the truth of that statement, but she was too stubborn to give Clarke the satisfaction of agreeing with her. "Maybe I should ask Phil."

"Go ahead. I'm sure he'd agree. I'm a first-class kisser."

"So am I."

"Oh? I'll ask Cassie next time I see her."

"You do that."

"You're up, Lexa," Raven called out.

Lexa glared at Clarke as she stepped up to the tee box and hit a ball that was a little anger driven.

"Wow, girl, that's a beaut!" Raven yelled. "Clarke, go."

Clarke placed her ball on the tee and hit it twenty-five feet.