Doppelganger: Anamorphosis

Chapter nine. Judy Strikes Back

The equation with one bottle of tequila and two skinny girls was inevitably going to be a disaster. But Gabriella was eager for revelation, and Judy was too exhausted to fight back or assess the possible risks. Why not? A hangover and morning awkwardness would be a fair payment for a relieved soul. No doubt Gabs deserved thanks, having lent a shoulder at just the right moment.

Unfortunately, the observant mulatto couldn't help but quip at her friend's shabby appearance, but the drowsiness was wiped away. Judy cheered up instantly.

- I'm happy for you, baby, - Gabrielle said venomously, - but just because your love life is back from the dead doesn't mean you can't act like a bitch.

Judy nearly dropped the mugs she'd fished out of the kitchen cabinet onto the floor.

Her personal life was still dead. Someone else had been resurrected, if that word was even applicable to the occasion.

- I... - she faltered, and began to make excuses, - I went to Salem, I mean, I...

- You went to Salem, - her friend cut her off, - and then you got fucked. It's noticeable, you know. But you could have taken a minute to call me.

- Actually, no, I didn't, - Judy mumbled. She gave up. - I'm sorry.

- Oh, yeah, yeah. Your shirt's buttoned the wrong way up. Is that the plan?

Judy growled through clenched teeth, cursing her carelessness.

She found a forgotten carton of orange juice in the fridge and, abandoning her dreams of grenadine or fresh lime, she suggested she settle for less. Gaby didn't object. As a girl who occasionally slipped into Spanish, she clearly had considerable experience drinking agave tincture in any variation.

They collapsed on the old couch in the cramped living room. Judy had recently moved it to the place where the unfortunate mirror had been. So that nothing would remind her of her brief possession of the fateful object.

- Is your mom okay? - Gaby asked, downing the drink with the thirst of a traveler who'd been wandering the desert for a week. A charming blush flickered across her olive skin.

That's how she does it! - Judy marveled. Blushing sweetly and seductively was almost an art. Gabrielle certainly didn't look like an overripe tomato, or a person who had caught a tropical fever that was spreading ugly blotches all over her body.

- Yes, she's okay, - Judy reported.

- Then what's wrong? - Why did you rush home all of a sudden?

Judy pondered, mentally filtering the facts she could share with Gaby without risking ruining their friendship. And being labeled crazy.

She was going to tell at least part of her story, but she was forced to censor every word. At the very least, Gabriella would hardly accept the extraordinary news that vampires, witches, warlocks, and who knows what otherworldly creatures were roaming the streets of New Orleans. And Judy, by the way, was one of them, something she hadn't realized until recently.

She finished her cocktail and refilled the coffee mugs, which had been used for lack of other, more appropriate utensils.

- It's a long story, - Judy said evasively. She took another swig of tequila, straight from her throat, before beginning her confession. For courage.

- What about the guapo? - Gaby hurried on, her eyebrows furrowing, - that's so good you've forgotten about everything else. Even me, - she pointed out resentfully.

- He has nothing to do with this, - Judy shook her head, thinking of a different guapo than the one her friend had in mind. Though she could think of a much more pungent Spanish word for the doppelganger. Thanks to her friend, Judy was well versed in them.