A New Alexandra Ch. 13

Alexandra fastened the silver-colored hoop earring and shook her head. Her hair stayed mostly organized, swept back in a sandy bouffant wave.

"Ready?" Kira had snuck up behind her, wrapping her arms around Alexandra's waist.

"Do I look ready? Makeup half-done, shoes somewhere in the dark abyss of our closet?"

"I'll get the shoes," Kira replied. "But the choice of one false eyelash did seem weird."

At least she didn't ask why I did my lashes halfway and popped in my earrings. Probably just because my brain works that way. Or doesn't.

"You're the best."

"I am. And I'm ready to go," said her girlfriend. Her ankle boots clunked on the hardwood.

It's going to be a weird night, Alexandra thought. I have no idea what I'm getting into, what the vibe at this party will be. She blinked, making sure the artificial lashes blended well with her natural pair. A touch-up and the job was complete. But apparently it's okay for me to look like a complete slut, so...that's cool?

"Lipstick?"

"Depends," said Kira. She'd appeared behind Alexandra in the mirror. Her own lips were subtly glossed. "I wouldn't say a mid-thigh sequined dress and four-inch heels needs more, but if you felt like it, that super-dark red Maybelline might not hurt."

"Might not hurt," Alexandra repeated. "Meaning that it'll ensure everyone stares at me, not you."

Kira directed her gaze to Alexandra's uncharacteristically low-cut dress.

"Honey, I'm five-ten and blonde," she finally said. "People stare at me no matter what. Just enjoy it."

I do, thought Alexandra. Not gonna lie, I like it when eyeballs flick my way.

"Shoes are new ones for you," Kira said. "They're the rest of your Christmas present. I'm sorry they're late."

"Late? I got you a huge jar of peanut butter, for heaven's sake. Who cares if part of your present is late?"

"Yes, but that's what I asked for. This was a little extravagant, even for me. Anyway, next to the bed."

Extravagant? From a woman who tosses gifts at me like she doesn't have to pay for them?

Alexandra exited the bathroom, tile switching to cool hardwood under her feet. On the bed sat a shoebox, brown with white lettering.

Christian Louboutin, it read in a crawling script. Paris. Alexandra swallowed as she cracked the lid. These are the most expensive shoes I've ever touched, let alone worn.

The shoes were matte black, finely textured suede with the trademark scarlet soles. Alexandra lifted one out, running her finger over the delicate stiletto.

"Wow." Not much more to say. "They're incredible. I mean, what a statement!"

"You mean you wearing them, or me giving them to you?"

"Both," said Alexandra. "I suppose they're a bit of an I'm-serious-about you gift in a way that peanut butter isn't."

"Oh, I know you're serious about me. But I know how much you love heels, and...well, I just figured I'd say it with actions rather than words."

"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around Kira, kissing her deeply. Her partner's hand rose to the back of Alexandra's neck, stroking the closely-buzzed hair. Alexandra purred, the feeling of soft, full lips distracting her.

The shoe clattered to the floor. Kira broke the kiss, shaking her head.

"They're designed to be worn on your feet, dear. Hard to drop them like that when worn properly."

"Oh, shush. You hardly gave me a chance."

Kira took a large step back. Pretty impressive, actually, given those shoes. Alexandra sat down and slid on the perfectly-tapered shoes.

"Four inches," Kira said, extending her long arm to lift Alexandra to her feet. "No big deal in your world nowadays, is it?"

Alexandra blushed. And to think this is all new since I started dating you. "Well, that doesn't mean I want to stand around in them all night."

"As you are aware, the Riises own furniture. You can sit down."

Or head to a bedroom, Alexandra thought. With any one of about four people who will be there.

"What?" asked Kira. "You're doing that staring into space thing again."

"Oh, nothing." Alexandra couldn't resist winking.

Kira shook her head again. "You complete little whore. We'll see, okay?"

"Yes, please."

"Ready?"

"I'm assuming we're not walking?"

Kira frowned. "If you ever think of walking a mile in Chicago in January in those shoes, just give them back and I'll find someone else who can wear them as intended." She paused, grinning. "No, I'm calling an Uber."

"Kira, honey. You're getting ahead of yourself. It's not January for another few hours."

"Ah, yes. December 31. A much better time to walk a mile in heels."

--

Meg Riis answered the door, wrapping Kira and Alexandra in rapid sequential hugs.

"Hello, Blondie," she said, taking a bottle of red wine from Kira. "So nice of you bring New Girl to our little soiree."

Alexandra stepped inside. "Little" was perhaps not the right word. The large living room was well-occupied, with perhaps fifteen women chatting, all eye-catchingly dressed.

"No staring, New Girl." Meg rested her hand on Alexandra's shoulder. "Obviously you know a few of them. The rest you can meet. But not if you just stand there."

"Oh, sorry." Alexandra scanned the room, picking out Meg's wife Mette and others from their soccer team.

"By the way, New Girl, I think you win this battle in the Shoe Wars. Fucking red bottoms."

Alexandra grinned. "Close second for you, Megan." Their hostess wore a low-cut navy dress, but even her cleavage was outshined by the glittering silver pumps.

"Thank you. Jimmy Choos aren't cheap, so I'm glad you at least noticed. I won't even comment on Blondie wearing the same color dress as me but with a slit so high up the side that it looks like an accident waiting to happen."

"You just did comment," replied Kira. "And with you, it might not be an accident."

Meg turned away, failing to hide the redness spreading across her pale cheeks.

Fingers intertwined with Alexandra's as Kira bent to whisper into her ear. "See, might not necessarily be the tamest party if you play your cards right."

Well, duh, thought Alexandra. You say that like we didn't have a foursome with Meg and Mette. But what happens when it's only us and what happens with a house full of people who presumably conform to conventional expectations of sexual behavior are two different things. Probably.

"No teasing," she whispered back.

"Oh, you know I don't tease. I always get you there. Eventually."

"Isn't that pretty much the definition of teasing? Promising something and then making me wait?"

"No," interjected Meg, winking. "Teasing would be promising something and then not delivering at all. And I must say, New Girl, that is not a problem Blondie has. Now, drinks?"

God yes, thought Alexandra. If there's someone eavesdropping on my innuendo-laced whispers, then I definitely need some alcohol.

Two minutes later, Alexandra's glass brimmed with a deep red wine whose varietal she hadn't even noted; she'd been in such a hurry to escape the crush around the kitchen island-turned-bar. Kira had vanished into the depths of the house, so Alexandra peeled off and collapsed onto the living room sofa.

"Nice work there. Red wine, silver dress, not a drop spilled."

"Thanks." Alexandra blinked. The voice belonged to Kelly Ainsworth, one of the other defenders on their soccer team. Despite having played portions of several games alongside her, Alexandra realized she knew virtually nothing about Kelly.

"I know," Kelly said. "I'm surprised to see me here, too. Married chick who lives in Skokie here alone in the city on New Year's."

"Well, yeah," said Alexandra.

Kelly raised her glass, sipping a dark-amber liquid from the ice-filled highball.

"So, what brings a married chick from the suburbs to the Riis fiefdom?" Come on, don't make me drag it out of you.

Kelly lowered the drink and raised her other hand. It took a second to click.

Oh. No wedding ring.

"The holidays are the peak season for separations and divorces. It seems this was my year. My husband is apparently already dating some bleach-blonde moron from his office."

"I'm sorry." I don't know her well enough to say much more than that. "That sounds awful."

Kelly shrugged. Perhaps that explains the "look-somewhere-else" black dress and ballet flats.

"So that tale of woe got Mette to swing me an invite to her party, at which I must say I feel thoroughly out of place."

What did she mean by that?

A hand rose to Kelly's mouth, covering the embarrassed expression. "I didn't mean that. I've played soccer long enough to be comfortable surrounded by lesbians. I meant that everyone at this party is so damn stylish. You included."

"Please. I'm a prime example of fake it 'til you make it," said Alexandra.

"I doubt that. I could fake it for a decade and not rock that dress as well as you."

Actually, you'd be cute if you tried, Alexandra thought. Dump that shapeless brown bob, pop on some eye makeup, wear something designed for women under sixty, and you'd be cute.

"No, I really am. This dress? The shoes? All Kira's doing. The lipstick was a friend. The makeup is Kira again. I'll admit the hair was me."

"The hair is so cool. But look, I'm just a soon-to-be-divorcée sitting on a couch and drinking alone, so don't mind me."

"You're not drinking alone. And you're not just your relationship status." Nor am I a mental health counselor, which you clearly need. But I'll do my best. "You're a good soccer player, and you're obviously a good friend of Mette and Meg's."

"And you're a better soccer player."

True. But I also just finished four college seasons.

"I didn't play above high school and it sometimes shows alongside you and Kira. Not to mention Lucía, of course. You all are so fluid with the ball."

"Well, thank you. Although you threaded a nice pass to Sam last game for her goal."

"Aw. Cheers to that," Kelly said, raising her glass again.

"To good passes," said Alexandra. It dawned on her which couch this was. I've never actually sat on this thing before. But I sure have kneeled in front of it, with my face buried in Mette's pussy. She took a deep breath. Now's not the time, Alexandra.

"So, what's in that glass, anyway?" I hope she doesn't notice that my mind just drifted away.

"Dark and Stormy. I thought it was a Dark and Stormy night."

"Oh, no. Not another punster," said Alexandra, chuckling.

"Guilty."

"You're safe here. Kira threatens to FedEx me back to Pittsburgh when I say things like that."

Kelly shifted position. "Wait, you're from Pittsburgh?"

"Yep, North Hills."

"Whoa. What high school?"

"North Hills again." Alexandra paused. "Why?"

"Don't suppose you know a Julia Morretti, do you?"

Oh, I know a lot about Julia Morretti, thought Alexandra. My high school midfield partner for two years. I know how mean she is to younger teammates; how she doesn't respect girls who aren't pretty; how shocked she was to find out that I'm a lot smarter than she is. And yet I still like the stupid slut.

"I do. How do you know Miss Morretti?"

At that, Kelly burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink. Nice smile. Familiar, somehow. Oh. Now I know what's coming next.

"She's my sister," said the former Kelly Morretti. "Did yinz get along alright?"

"As well as Jules did with anyone she didn't have dirt on."

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that. Girl's known too much about me for too long."

"How's she doing?"

"As you'd expect," said Kelly. "President of her sorority at Penn State, dragging said sorority's GPA down, drinking her weight in booze and changing boyfriends more often than she changes her sheets."

Ew. But yes, that sounds like Julia Morretti as only a sister would describe her.

"Wow. What a small world. Like, we're sitting here in Chicago, I've been playing soccer alongside you for a month, and I just found out I've known your sister for half my life."

"To be fair, she's only my half-sister." Ah, yes, I vaguely remember some family drama there. "I assume that means we're sending her a selfie?"

"Heck yes, even if she's busy switching gears from last year's guy to next year's."

Kelly laughed as she slid over to Alexandra, lifting her phone to the classic high-angle selfie pose. Alexandra raised her glass as the shutter snapped. Kelly turned the screen to her, showing her the photo.

"Good?"

"Yes, I like it. Do you?" Actually, that might be one of the best photos I've ever seen of myself. My smile's perfect, my hair's great, I actually look comfortable in my own skin.

"Definitely. OK to send it to Julia?"

"Yeah. Send it to her, put it on Facebook, whatever you want. Actually, can you text me a copy?"

"Sure? What's your number?"

Alexandra provided it, and a second later the picture streamed through.

"Thanks. Well, let's see what she thinks?"

Kelly smiled. "If she's sober enough to even realize what's going on."

"It's barely ten o'clock," said Alexandra.

"You do know Julia, right?" Kelly laughed as both their phones lit up with an incoming message.

Julia: Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaat?

Kelly: Hi Sparky. Happy New Year!

"She stuck her finger in an outlet when she was a toddler. She's been Sparky ever since," Kelly explained.

"Probably explains a thing or two."

"Right?"

Julia: You too. But wait, how do you and Alexandra know each other?

Kelly: We play on the same rec league soccer team.

Julia: No way.

Kelly: Way. We played like three games together before we became aware of our smelly mutual connection.

Julia: Whatever, you're just mad that I'm prettier than you.

Kelly: And you're mad that I'm smarter than you, Sparky.

Julia: Shut up. Shut up!

Alexandra: I didn't say anything.

Kelly looked up.

"Sorry, Mean Girls quotes just happen."

"I know," said Alexandra's new friend. "But not with such perfect timing."

Julia: Baaaaaaaaaabes! I almost didn't recognize you!

Alexandra: Good or bad, Meanie?

"Meanie?"

"Double meaning," said Alexandra. "She thinks it's only because she's mean. But it's also eeny-meeny-miny-moe, her method of choosing guys."

"I like you," said Kelly. "Want another drink?"

Alexandra looked down, stunned to see an empty glass.

"Please. Surprise me?"

A new text appeared as Kelly disappeared into the kitchen.

Julia: Sorry, wanted to drop Kelly for a moment. REALLY good. What are you up to tonight?

Alexandra: Just a party at a friend's house.

Julia: Is Kelly doing okay? I assume she told you?

Ah, that's why she got dropped from the chat.

Alexandra: She did. She's doing okay given the circumstances, I think. She's getting another round right now, so that's good?

Julia: Careful. She's out of practice. Or just a lightweight.

Alexandra: Doesn't look like it. Seriously, Sparky?

Julia: Ugh, not you too.

Alexandra: Well, all the people on this team call me New Girl.

Not all of them. At least Kira doesn't. Or Mette.

Julia: I like it! So tell me, how are you doing? It's been so long!

Alexandra: Good, I suppose. Ready for a new year?

Actually, I'm fucking great, but I hate, hate, hate talking about myself.

Julia: Ready for a party, at least. Speaking of, I need to go. Keep an eye on Duckie for me and let's catch up sometime soon!

Alexandra: Have fun :)

Kelly returned with two identical drinks.

"Dark and Stormy, New Girl."

"What's in it?"

"It's a Moscow Mule but with rum instead of vodka. Also, your girlfriend's looking for you."

"I'm not the one that wandered off!"

"I told her where you were," said Kelly, a glint in her hazel eyes. "Until then, you're mine." Lightweight, Alexandra thought.

"Cheers, Duckie." Alexandra winked.

"That little brat," said Kelly. "She says I have a constant trout pout. Or duck face. Whatever."

She's right. I'd assumed you'd had lip injections. "I'm not sure that's such a bad thing. Lips have their uses."

Kelly sipped her drink. "I suppose you'd know. If I'm Duckie, I have to wonder what my sister would call Kira. I mean, she doesn't have the thinnest lips..."

"Julia would hate Kira." If there's something that makes Julia mad, it's a combination of hotter, smarter, and more athletic rolled into one package.

"Why? She clearly doesn't hate you," said Kelly.

"Well, no, but what do you mean?"

A shadow approached over Alexandra's shoulder.

"I assume your logic is as follows: Kira is prettier, smarter, and better at soccer than Sparky. Therefore my sister would hate her."

"Well, yeah." Stop saying "well." You sound like you can't think fast enough to keep up with your mouth.

"She has grown up, you know."

Alexandra was about to ask Kelly to explain when Lucía slid onto the opposite end of the couch.

"I see Kelly's got you on the Dark and Stormy train, Alex."

"I've never had one before. But yes." And you look absolutely amazing in that dress, even if it's the same color my wine was.

"Y tú, mi peruana favorita?" Kelly asked.

"Vino tinto, por supuesto."

Apparently we've switched to Spanish. Which I don't speak.

"Yes, Alexandra," said Lucía, rolling her name to sound like the Spanish Alejandra. "I do actually drink, just not often in company."

"Why's that?"

She blushed. Impressive, given her complexion.

"You saw me after the game last time. I tend to get a little... exuberant?"

"I'd have called that garden-variety shitfaced," said Alexandra. "You're still worried about it?"

"Not really," said Lucía, lifting a glass with contents the same shade as her dress. "So, is Sam coming tonight?"

Sam? She's played one game with us. Mette and Meg hardly know her. Why would she be invited?

"Um, I don't know. Why?"

"Oh, just she was really nice and I know you two are friends."

Kelly laughed. "And because she took you home in an Uber when you could barely stand."

"That too," said Lucia, tossing her dark hair aside. "And I'd like to pay her back for that. It's not cheap to get out to Evanston. Alex, you said her parents live there?"