Read Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) for Free Online Page B

about Peter’s lovemaking abilities (or lack thereof).
    Peter seemed to do better when he had a few drinks. He was much less inhibited and definitely lasted longer. One time she got him so drunk, he pretended to be her slave boy. She pictured Peter, completely naked, except for a bow tie and cowboy boots that she had made him wear—what a sight. She giggled a little to herself every time she thought about it. It made Peter really uncomfortable when she brought it up—if he even acknowledged that it happened.
    Peter was about to get up, take a shower, and rinse his mouth out with Scope—as he did almost immediately after every sexual encounter—when someone started knocking at the door.
    “Who could that be at this hour?” Peter said.
    “If it’s that Gina bitch, don’t answer it.”
    Peter was about to yell “Who is it?” but decided to look through the peephole instead. Cheryl was right. It was Gina standing at the door.
    “Peter, let me in. I know you’re there. I saw your car outside.”
    Peter slipped on his robe and opened the door just enough to look out. “What are you doing here?”
    “Peter, there’s dog crap on my carpeting.”
    “I took him out and he wouldn’t go. I know you’re not over here in the middle of the night to bitch at me for walking your dog at midnight—going way beyond my neighborly duties.”
    “No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m really here because my life just sucks.”
    “You’re plastered, Gina. Aren’t you?”
    “Slightly.”
    “Well, go home and sleep it off. We’ll talk in the morning.”
    “I can’t come in? Is someone there? Not that whore Cheryl again?”
    “Shhhh.”
    “It is her,” Gina whispered, annoyed. “Has she grown a third tit or anything since your last fuck?” she added, raising her voice a little. In her drunken state she couldn’t help hoping Cheryl would hear her. It was hard to believe that she and Cheryl were ever good friends. They’d roomed together in college for two years and were virtually inseparable the entire time. Their friendship continued only briefly after college, when Cheryl betrayed Gina, or at least in Gina’s opinion that’s what she did.
    Before Peter could respond, a fully dressed Cheryl grabbed the door from him and pulled it all the way open.
    “Peter, if you want to stand here all night and talk to what’s-her-name,” Cheryl said, gesturing toward Gina, “I’m leaving.” Cheryl walked toward the elevators with neither Peter nor Gina trying to stop her. Cheryl had wanted to go anyway, and this was as good an excuse as any. She preferred to sleep in her own bed, and besides, the humidifier Peter ran every night was awfully loud and disturbed her sleep. Ever since he had two sinus infections a few winters ago, Peter was convinced he was especially prone to them and insisted on using a noisy humidifier every night to keep his nasal passages moist and ward off infections.
    “God, Peter, what do you see in her anyway?”
    “Good night, Gina. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Peter closed the door to go take a shower and left Gina standing there.
    Gina muttered something under her breath and headed down the hall to her apartment—another wasted Saturday night. If sitting through Penelope’s wedding earlier that day wasn’t bad enough, she had to walk in on Peter and Cheryl. Penelope had Donny, Peter had Cheryl, and Gina just felt very alone—very drunk and very alone. She passed the elevator just as it was opening.
    “Mary, what are you doing here?”
    Gina turned around to see the potbellied man who had paid for her drink earlier in the evening.
    “I was just on my way home,” Gina said, startled.
    “Do you live here?”
    “Just down the hall,” Gina said, wanting to kick herself for telling the truth.
    “That’s amazing. A friend of mine lives down at the other end of the building. I don’t usually use these elevators, but I couldn’t find any parking near the other side. How long have you