False Start [#1]

O 6

C H A P T E R  O 6
"Welcome to the real world. It sucks, you're gonna love it."
- Monica Geller

"Christ, you look a mess."

Sinking further into the mountains of blankets surrounding me, I hiss in Capri's direction before turning back to the TV that's playing the re-runs of FRIENDS I promised myself three days ago.

Her designer heels click against the hardwood of my apartment's floor, coming closer she flicks open her suit jacket before taking a seat on the sofa beside me.

"Isla was right to send me over." She says, eyeing me and my current state of a distaster. "You look worse than Lane did after Mardi Gras."

Of course Isla was the one to send Capri round to check on me, forever the mother figure who can't settle until she knows her child is safe.

I narrow my eyes at Capri and she smirks.

"Malia, you've taken three days off work. That's very unlike you, so whatever is going on in here," she pokes me in the side of my head. "Get over it, and move the fuck on, bitch."

My narrowed eyes turn into slits.

"Think if it was that easy I wouldn't have done it by now?"

"No, but because you're Malia fucking Rivers, bad ass queen, and beautiful social media goddess, I know it's possible. So therefore, pick up your damn bottom lip, and keep it moving."

I could always count on Capri Lancaster for the tough-love in situations Isla isn't capable of dragging me out of.

Since meeting the sprite-light firecracker five years ago while I was checking out the market for a new apartment, Capri was my assigned real estate agent who found me this very place - lets just say we bonded over our drunken antics, and now we have our own bunch of alcohol induced memories together.

We celebrated the closing deal by drinking our weight in gummy worms and tequila shots. Isla being the one who had to get our drunken asses home, and nurse us back to health the next day when the hangover was too much to bare.

The three of us have become quite the trio since that night, Isla claiming to have gained another child was a hard suggestion that the estate agent was stuck with us now.

I look around my living room, the same room I've been camping out in for the past seventy-two hours. Three bottles of Tequila sit empty and sad on my coffee table. Beside it is a used tumbler glass with lipstick marks on from day one. There's candy wrappers, chip packets and a dish from the salsa I had to dip.

This place looks a mess.

Oh god.

Capri pushes to a stand and begins to collect the trash together in one hand. "How about you get a shower while I tidy around, then I'll drop you off at the office. Sound good?"