“I didn’t think you’d care! I mean sure, she’s your sister but it’s not like we’re an item or anything. Jesus, fuck, Christ! Call me when you get this.” With an unobtrusive little beep, I hung up the phone and then tossed it onto the coach. The black leather coach with the subtle, little, light white smudges, dried and starting to flake. “What is WRONG with me?” I gripped fistfuls of my hair and tugged on them as I paced the hardwood floor back and forth. “I should be saying how sorry I am and I’m just making excuses, argh!” Shaking my head, I threw my hands down by my sides, moving to rest them on the back of the coach and looking at the mess on the coffee table.
Red wine pooled against the light wood, probably staining it forever, from the overturned glass which lay next to it’s partner. She’d never flipped out this completely before over any of the other girls. The nearly empty green bottle stood next to it, diverting some of the puddle to trace it’s rim against the wood. Maybe this time was different.