My Mythic Bitch In Red

Chapter Twenty-Six

Veronica's POV

I snorted at a cheesy joke that Mac told.

"Ah yes, the elusive 7 legged cat," I said as I rolled my eyes. She grinned proudly. It was 3am on a Monday night but here we were, giggling away like a bunch of maniacs. (y/n)'s parents gave up shooshing us what seemed like days ago, and I knew we'd have to call in sick tomorrow.

"We're not going to school tomorrow are we?" I asked, attempting to blink away the sleep that pulled at my eyes. The other girls nodded.

"Should we phone Chandler then? I wouldn't want her all alone tomorrow," Mac asked. It was my turn to join the nodded as (y/n) for up on wobbly, tired legs. She, luckily, had a phone in her room to use. She dialed her "girlfriend's" number and we heard it ring before someone picked up.

"Hey, sweetie. Look, I know it's really late, but I'm with Mac, Ronnie, and Martha and we had a sleepover. We're not asleep yet, so we're calling in sick to school. We wanted to let you know," she said softly. She waited for Heather to talk before responding again.

"You were busy, but you could call in sick too and hang tomorrow? It'll be fun, I promise," another pause.

"Alright, babe. Now go sleep." She whispered, hanging up.

"Wow, were those pet names I heard?" I teased, eyes drooping and limbs heavy. I felt like my arms were filled with cement and my legs were filled with lead.

"Yeah, we're not official or anything, but we like each other? I know it's weird but she's really great," she ended up giggling.

"Guys, quiet down! I wanna sleeeeeep!" Mac whined, cuddling into a soft pillow she'd stolen from (y/n)'s bad.

"Yeah, I'm ready to sleep," Martha added while she rubbed her eyes.

"Okay, then we should change into the clothes. Mac first, since you complained first. Then Martha, then Ronnie and I'll go last," (y/n) commanded tiredly. Mac slowly pushing herself up, stretching and groaning.

"Alright, I'll be just a minute," Mac yawned as she went to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, clicking the door locked, as if we'd actually barge in when we were all dozing off on the floor. We were a bunch of human-slug hybrids, but it was 3am and I didn't think I'd ever stayed up that late.

Okay, I'd definitely done it, but I was being productive. I was studying to get into an Ivy League school like Harvard. I needed scholarships if I was going to get the education I was smart enough for, as if I could afford half a semester at Brown.

I head the door creak open and out came Mac, dressed in a soft looking baby blue nightgown. Martha and her switched places, and Mac collapsed back on her spot.

"I'll get more blankets..." (y/n) whispered and I nodded. She smiled weakly and tiptoed out the room to find us more blankets. Man, if I were gay and Chandler wouldn't kill me, I would've put a ring on that finger so quickly, in my sleep deprived, delirious mind. Soft blankets were like sacrificing her entire life for me to live. Give. Blankie. Pleeeaaaseee.

I didn't really know what to do, since I was still uncomfortable and Martha was definitely going to take a while, I had nothing to really do. Get lost in thought again? Wait no that's supposed to just happen. It's like when a writer is just rambling to fill time and word count, so they make characters get lost in thought describing the room they're in for the first time, as if people notice tiny details when first exposed to stuff.

Woah, dude, that was like, really deep.

Wait wait wait wait, what did I just say in my brain? Was I high? I felt high. Did I accidentally do pot today? How do you accidentally do pot? Did I defy every rule of physics and logic and just magically do pot? Was a a witch?!

"I'm back," (y/n) blinked tiredly with many cozy looking blankets in tow.

"If you don't give me a blanket I will officially die. I am cold." I announced quietly, earning me a soft blanket being tossed directly at my face. It was the kind of square-on hit that if it wasn't soft and a blanket but like a ball of some sort, it probably would have broken my nose.

"Thank you," I groaned.

I head the door creak open to see Martha standing there in dark blue sweatpants and a fuzzy, over-sized white sweater.

"You look adorable," (y/n) gushed. Martha gave her a smile while I got up and took my clothes with me.

"So about sleeping arrangements, my bed is big enough that one other person can sleep in it with me, or I can sleep on a couch or floor and two of you guys can sleep there," (y/n) offered, muffled through the door.

"I'll take the couch," Martha replied softly.

"You sure? You and Ronnie could share it, I would offer it to Mac but she's out cold." (y/n) asked hesitantly.

I pulled my gray shirt over my head and shook my head. I was supposed to have washed my hair tonight, it wasn't very cute with two days of hairspray in it.

"No, you and Veronica share it. I like your couch, it's cute and the cat seems to like it, maybe she'll lay on me," Martha answered.

"Yeah, don't expect it though. She's not big on new people, she needs a couple meetings to enjoy very much touch. Maybe, though," She rambled. I opened the door, baggy black sweatpants warming my legs. They were lined with soft, almost fur-like fabric on the inside. I felt like a classy lady in sweatpants, hell yeah.

(974 words)