The World According to Susie

Ch 7: Well, What Now?

Rina's busy torching up the rig on one corner of my bed like a mad scientist, while Celestine, fresh from the outside world, is perched on the other corner looking like she just walked into a crime scene. Meanwhile, I'm sprawled out dramatically on my orange rug in the middle of the room like a tragic painting. The awkward silence is deafening, even as PinkPantheress's "Turn it Up" plays in the background, ironically doing the opposite of turning anything up.

Rina lifts the torch from the rig bowl, and in true Rina fashion, busts out a little tune. "Suuuuusie, you get first hiiiiit~~~," she sings, shimmying to the beat. I pop up from the floor like a cartoon character about to meet their doom, ready to let the dab smoke do its worst to my lungs.

Then, Celestine decides to drop a bomb, because why not? "Sooo... would now be a bad time to mention that I ran into Vivienne and Georgia today? Georgia gave me her number."

Mid-inhale, I whip my head around so fast it's a miracle I didn't snap my neck, and immediately start coughing like I've been chain-smoking for 40 years.

"Cici...!" Rina shoots her a death glare. "Could you not? You know we've had the day from hell, and you lead with that?!"

I manage to stop hacking just long enough to croak, "Wait... Georgia gave you her number too?" I collapse back onto the rug, feeling the high start to creep in as I curl up into a sad little ball of confusion and secondhand drama.

Rina casually stands up, floats over like she's about to solve world peace, takes the rig, and inhales her hit with a grin. "You gotta be quicker than that," she says, all smiles. Rina's always the happiest person in the world when she's smoking. 

Rina, holding in the smoke, passes the rig to Celestine, then exhales on Celestine. "Thanks for that Rina! Second hand high before I get high." She jokes. 

I watch as Celestine and Rina giggle like a couple of stoned hyenas, while I let out the most dramatic, miserable sigh known to mankind. "Siiiiiiiighhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," I groan, rolling over on my back, eyes glued to the ceiling. "First of all, why did she give Celestine her number? Second, she's cheating on Vivienne! Do I tell Vivienne? How do I feel about my crush being a cheater? Could I ever be okay with being the side chick?!"

"Wooooooah, Susie, chill," Rina says, blowing out smoke like she's the Dalai Lama of bad advice. "Yeah, it sucks that she's a cheater, but she's cheating on Vivienne, not you. Not your circus, not your monkeys."

"Yeah, but I'd feel horrible, terrible, like jump-off-a-cliff awful if she was cheating on me! What if I'm just never good enough for her?" I dramatically fling my arms wide like I'm auditioning for a soap opera.

Rina takes another hit and deadpans, "To be so real right now, you shouldn't even be messing with her. She's got a girlfriend, and she's out here cheating with some random girl. It's messy."

Oof, she's right. The truth hurts. Maybe it's finally time to let go of my year-long fantasy about Georgia. It's not like I ever stood a chance anyway.

I roll face-first into the rug and let out a pathetic, muffled sob like I've just been dumped by someone who never even dated me. Rina and Celestine keep smoking, calmly watching my pity party unfold like it's some tragic Netflix special.

"Wait, so," I ask, still lying flat on the floor like a human doormat, "you saw Georgia and Vivienne at your work or something?"

"Yeah," Celestine says, "they both ordered shaken espressos—one with oat milk, one with almond milk."

"Okaaay... and?"

"Oh, so Georgia recognized us from the bar and said we were 'comical'—which, duh—and then she invited us to this rich guy's house party. She said it'd be cool if we all hung out... especially Vivienne."

I roll my eyes so hard I think I pull a muscle. "I don't give a flying eff about Vivienne! Why does Georgia suddenly care if we come to some random party? She barely knew we existed before, and now she's all up in our business?"

I stare at the ceiling, still completely horizontal on the floor, pondering life's unfairness like it's a math problem I can't solve.

As I lie there on the floor, marinating in my confusion and mild heartbreak, Rina glances at Celestine, then back at me, clearly plotting something. She exhales a cloud of smoke and says, "You know what? Let's just go to the party."

"What?!" I pop up like a jack-in-the-box. "Why would we go? To watch Georgia flirt with half the room while I sit there pretending to be fine?"

Rina shrugs, a smirk creeping across her face. "Because we're bored. And honestly, you need to stop obsessing over Georgia and start living your best life. Plus, there's free alcohol."

"Yeah," Celestine chimes in, "and I want to see how Vivienne reacts when Georgia's busy talking to everyone but her. It's like reality TV, but live." She says this way too cheerfully, as if she's not casually suggesting we witness a potential emotional car crash.

I sit up fully, blinking. "You're both insane. But... free drinks?"

"Free drinks," Rina confirms, wiggling her eyebrows.

Rina gets up and preps another dab while Break It Off by PinkPantheress fills the room. The weed has me floating in a bubble where everything's happier and shinier than it has any right to be—but honestly, I'm loving it. I start dancing like I'm in a music video, fully embracing the high.

Celestine, never one to miss out on a moment, joins in and spins me around like we're at some kind of indie disco... until I fall flat on my butt. We all burst into laughter, and I just sit there, soaking in the hilarity.

"This definitely calls for a thrifting adventure! We NEED to find the best outfits for this weekend's party at Henry John's mansion!" Rina says, her eyes lighting up like someone just told her there's a 90% off sale. Rina's obsessed with shopping—she even resells vintage clothes to fund her addiction.

"Okay, let's go right now! I'll drive~!" Celestine sings as she dashes out of my room like a contestant on America's Next Top Driver, racing to put on her shoes.

Rina wanders over to my speaker and turns off the music, which is an immediate buzzkill. I shoot her a look.

"What, you hate PinkPantheress now?" I joke, pretending to be offended.

"No, no... It's not that," she says, suddenly all shy, staring at the floor like she just dropped a bomb. "I think I still have a crush on Celestine. I want to tell her... soon."

I grin, trying not to giggle because I've known this for ages. I'm basically the CEO of Rina and Celestine's unofficial fan club. "Girl, THIS weekend is your moment! Just vibe with her at the party and then hit her with the truth. I'm telling you, she feels the same."

Just as I say that, Celestine bursts back into the room, shoes on, practically glowing. "Alright! I'm ready~~~" she shouts, completely oblivious to the fact that Rina's blushing like she's on a 90s sitcom about secret crushes.

We all head to Celestine's car, ready to conquer the thrift stores and find the perfect outfits for this weekend. Little does she know, this weekend might not just be about fashion... but maybe a love confession, too.