Clothing

George's birthday party is much more fun than I anticipated. George invited maybe ten people, and only seven arrived, and out of those seven, five (including myself) are drinking. It isn't my first time drinking, and it won't be my last.

"Come on," George grunts, pulling me into the kitchen. I almost spill my cup of golden liquid, as I stumble behind him. Our hands are clutched together, and we don't pull apart even once we make it into the kitchen. Finally, he pulls me closer, and he asks, "Do you want some more to drink?"

"No.Thank you, though."

I slip my hand out of his, and I hop up onto the kitchen counter. George, of course, moves in front of me and wraps his arms around my waist. We ignore everyone that walks in and out of the kitchen. It doesn't matter. Right now, everything that matters is George, myself, and whatever alcohol his parents bought us. I sip at my drink, and once I place it next to me on the counter, George soon pushes his lips onto mine.

I've never really thought of George like that, but a drunken kiss is a drunken kiss. It won't really change anything, so I kiss back for a few seconds and pull away. "I should probably head home."

I hop off of the counter, and George grabs my hand.

"Mary, don't go." He says, but I still pull out of his grip.

I move stumble towards the door, yet in the mess I was making, I turn around and say, "Happy birthday, Georgie."

I make it home without injuries, thankfully, and once I'm safe in my own bed, I fall asleep.

"Wake up."

I can tell it is Eve. She slowly presses her hand to my face, cupping it. "You have to wake up, Mary."

"My head--" I groan, but I'm cut off by Eve's sigh.

I open my eyes, and I look up at her. "What are we doing today, Eve?"

"I want your shirt."

I look down at my old green tie-dye shirt. "This one?"

"Yes, Mary." She grins, "My favorite color is green."

I knew that, but I never thought that she'd want this shirt. I've had it for about three years. I slip it off, just as she starts to pull her own off.

"Maybe I should have put on a bra first." I laugh, as I realize that I must have taken it off last night.

Eve just shrugs. "We're both women. I don't mind."

I silently agree, and I put her shirt on top of my naked chest. She hugs me, as she takes the picture of us.

I don't even care that she saw my nipples. We're both women, after all. What does it matter?