“Hey Ally, do you think that you should maybe stop drinking so much?”
That sentence almost came out a grand total of seventeen times throughout the night, but was almost always interrupted. Or Ally couldn’t hear her over the pounding bass. Or pretended she couldn’t hear her over the pounding bass, Rachel wasn’t sure which. But still, seventeen was a lot. Far more than most people would have gone for Allison Spades, content to let her drink herself stupid and eat herself round. Most people would consider themselves lucky to have a friend like Rachel Reynolds by their side looking out for them…
Allison Spades was not most people.
“What do you mean?” she asked incredulously, actually allowing a glop of spicy salsa to plop back in the dish, “I always drink this much!”
It was three hours into the bar scene and no one was coming. At least nobody new and interesting. Ally had eaten her way through four platters of hot wings, six big mugs of beer, and was currently chomping through her third basket of complimentary corn-chip nachos. Rachel, who didn’t actually care much for bars nor the food they served, had only eaten a few chips here and there with her own order of (bland) queso to dip the ever-occasional nacho into—still working on her second bud light.
“I’m just saying that maybe you should… I don’t know, cool down a little.” Rachel squeaked, regretting that she had said anything at all, “Don’t you have work in the morning?”
Ally snorted, rolling her eyes with flourish as she circled back around to face her pet good-two-shoes, “Rachel, that’s the point.” she said flatly before lifting the butt of her glass over her head and killing her sixth mug of the night, “That’s, like, why we’re here right? ‘Cause… y’know, I hate my job?”
Rachel sighed as she sloshed the contents of her longneck, uninterested in their alcoholic properties, “I know but... this isn’t healthy. Going out and partying almost every night—Aren’t you tired of coming here?”
Ally almost spat out her drink, “The Black Boxx?! No way! I’d like, live here!”
Rachel shied away from her friend, who seemed a little more agitated than normal. Rachel didn’t work for Buttercombe Academy like most of the women in town, so she couldn’t speak for just how bad Ally’s life as a Med Tech really was. However her friend had always had something of a short temper, and she had always been fortunate enough that it had never once in their years of “friendship” been directed at her. Though, should she keep things up the way they were going, that might change soon enough…
“Look, forget I said anything.” Rachel put on a fake smile, “Let’s uh, go have another drink! I’ll buy!”
Ally sat firm in her seat, an immovable mass of redheaded ire
“Oh, so now I’m not drinking enough?” Ally added slyly, “Quit trying to shut me up. If you’ve got something on your mind, Rach, just say it.”
“N-No really, I—“
“Say it.”
Here Rachel hung her head and squeaked a little before brushing back one of her long black bangs. She looked up at her friend, ever plus-sized pound of pugnacity there was to her, before continuing. Albeit somewhat unwillingly.
“Ally, you know I love you right?” she began softly, “That’s the only reason why I’m saying this but… you’re not a kid anymore! You can’t drag me out here every night to party like you’re still in college. You have a job. I have a job and all this drinking is making… it’s not good for you!” she quickly corrected herself, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Ally stared at her, nostrils flared and her brow furrowed. Her round, doughy face got bright red as the seconds ticked away into the beat of the club around them. Ally slowly opened her mouth and said…
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