Stressed Spelled Backwards |Lesbian Story|

Chapter 8

It was payday for both Karmen and Elise, and money animated apartment 2B like winds in the sails of a three-masted ship. It was mostly Elise's payment plus two weeks pay from Karmen, but it meant the end of $9.50 per person per week, and it seemed like a fortune.

Since the cash was enormous, I didn't feel bad about spending two hours filling my basket with exactly the right foods according to the Cooking for Dummies, which I bought, too. In fact, by the time I got all that stuff home, I realized I had missed another day of job hunting. Well, that could wait until tomorrow.

I wanted to make a nice dinner for my best friends, seeing that they had been doing all the work. I figured I'd make some hamburgers. Then I settled on roast chicken for dinner. The cookbook said, 'Nuke the chicken in the microwave and forget about it for two hours'. That left me time to make soup. I couldn't wait to see the look on Elise's and Karmen's face when they got home to find a meal fit for a queen waiting for them.

I was slicing onions, and weeping deliciously into a paper towel, when the doorbell rang. I looked into the peephole to see the last person on earth I wanted to see -Clarice Kingsley.

She was smiling with all her thirty-two teeth at me when I opened the door.

"They're both out," I said. Elise was at the studio, and Karmen was scrubbing a greasy fry pan.

Undaunted, she pushed past me into the apartment and set her butt on the kitchen counter.

"That's a really cool apartment," she said, looking around. "What's this big mess?"

"Sorry," I said and went to tidy up. Here I was, apologizing for preparing dinner in such a ridiculously unexpected location as the kitchen. I stopped and wheeled around to the blonde model.

"What are you doing here?" I said.

"I got a break from shooting a block away from here and decided to drop by," she said with a shrug.

"Well, you heard me, they're not here at the moment," I said.

"What are you making?" she sniffed the air.

"Oh damn it, my chicken!" I went over to the oven and turned it off. There was a bit of smoke, but luckily, the chicken wasn't burned into a lump of coal yet. The popcorn incident still left a bad impression for our landlady, another chicken mishap would be the last straw.

Clarice watched me getting the roast chicken out. She followed me since the bird smelled great. The new pot of soup simmered on the stove, the burgers and salad were crisp and fresh.

"This looks so great," she said.

That's when the phone rang. It was Karmen. "I'm going to be late tonight, Azra, I got a waiting job at this super fancy club. Who knows, someone might discover me there, besides there are hot babes everywhere, so don't wait for me."

"What? But I cooked us a great dinner!" I said. A giggle came through the receiver.

"Sorry, wifey, but see you later," she said and already hung up. And it wasn't thirty seconds later that the phone rang again. Elise said she wasn't going to be home tonight.

"Get your butt over here," I said. "Wait till you see what I've made for dinner."

"I'm at Machu Pichu," said Elise.

"What?" I said. "I've been slaving over a hot stove all day! And guess who's here in our kitchen right now?"

"Sorry. Gotta go. I'll see you on Thursday."

I was crushed. Who's going to eat my dinner? I staggered back into the kitchen and stared at all that food, simmering, stewing, and cooling, and neatly placed at the table, which even looked romantic.