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“We do this anytime one of us goes through a breakup,” I explain. “We’re celebrating your liberation from having a boyfriend.”
“Or in my case, a girlfriend,” Sarah adds.
“We’re going to drink too much and eat too much. Fuck the world,” I say.
“She doesn’t mean that last one as a verb, does she?” Alex turns in her seat to ask Sara, and I see a twist of a smile on her face in the rearview mirror.
“No,” Sara answers. “But the first two are definites. I ordered pizza.”
“And I called in Chinese,” I say. “Any requests?”
“Um . . . I like cheeseburgers.”
“Done.” Sara is texting in the back. “Lila is working at the grease palace. And my brother is at the state store tonight, so hooch is covered.”
“So where are we going right now?”
“This is the best part,” I say as I pull into the dollar store, put the car in park, and give Alex a once-over.
“I think Code Yellow,” I say to Sara.
“Absolutely not,” she says, leaning forward and protectively cupping her hands around Alex’s ponytail. “You’re not stripping out these raven tresses. Code Red, all the way.”
“Explanation?” Alex asks me, one eyebrow high.
“This is the part where we buy cheap dye, go home, get drunk, and color each other’s hair.”
To my surprise, Alex is the first one out of the car.
We have eaten ourselves to the point of physical pain, had too much to drink, and started a fire in the pit in my backyard, which probably wasn’t the smartest choice considering our blood alcohol levels and the fresh chemicals in our hair. But it doesn’t matter. My mom and dad are at a church retreat for married couples and we’re making the most of it.
“You can really pack it in,” Sara says to Alex. “You weren’t kidding when you said you like cheeseburgers.”
“I do.” Alex nods, her gaze a little unfocused. “I really do.”
“You’re staying the night,” I inform her, and she nods, the foil wrappers in her hair catching the light from the flames.
“Time?” I ask Sara, who glances at her phone, her own wrappers falling forward into her face.
“We’ve got ten minutes,” she says. “Then we’re matchy matchy.”
“Somewhat,” I say. We decided highlights were best, a little red shot through Alex’s black hair that would complement our darker browns as well.
“It’ll give your face some lift,” Sara explained as she mixed the chemicals, the tang burning the inside of our noses. Alex nodded as if she understood what that meant and I had to smother a smile.
“Thank you,” Alex says, leaning toward me now across the fire.
I touch the neck of my bottle to hers and Sara pops a fresh one for herself.
“Are we friends?” Alex asks Sara suddenly.
Sara takes a pull on her cider, touching her own foil and then Alex’s. “Looks like it,” she says. “Once enacted, Emergency Girlfriend Pact cannot be revoked. We have matching hair now. This is serious shit.”
Alex smiles, her gaze going to the fire. “I’m sorry about your uncle,” she says. As usual, her words carry more weight than necessary, making it sound like she was personally responsible rather than offering condolences.
Sara freezes for a second, her eyes meeting mine. I nod to let her know that I’d let Alex in on the situation, hoping that was okay.
“Well,” Sara sighs heavily. “I know it might sound terrible, but it kind of made some things easier for my family. We didn’t have to think about, you know, pressing charges or anything like that. It was just . . . taken care of.” Sara snaps her fingers.
