Chapter 4: Whiny Bitch

“Birdy, I’m home.”

I went to the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, cracked it open and drank.

“In my bedroom,” Birdy responded.

I walked through our eclectic living room filled with mismatched throw pillows and empty take-out boxes and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. At Birdy’s room, I peered in, noticing her standing in front of a large closet in nothing but black heels.

I laughed. “Nice outfit.”

Birdy glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I know, right?”

I continued down the hall, to my room where I dropped my bag on the wood floor and kicked off my shoes.

Where Birdy’s room was a complete mess, I kept my room organized. That was the reason I noticed one of my bureau drawers slightly ajar. I knew for a fact I’d closed it that morning before leaving for my first interview.

“Birdy, did you take some of my socks?” I opened the drawer but saw nothing missing.

“No, I haven’t been in your room today,” Birdy said in her high, silky voice.

“Weird.” I closed the drawer before scanning the rest of my room to see if anything else was out of place. It all seemed okay, but I got the sense things had been moved and then put back.

Shrugging, I went back to Birdy’s room. My best friend was in the process of pulling a small, white dress over her head. I averted my eyes, studying the clothes covering the floor instead of Birdy’s naked body. “Where are you going in that outfit?” I asked when she had the hem adjusted over her ass.

Birdy’s real name was Pamela Bird. We met during our first semester in college and became immediate friends. Through college and law school, our friendship grew into a relationship so solid I considered Birdy family. I would do anything for her, and I knew the feeling was mutual.

Birdy wasn’t just smart, either. She was the epitome of a super model: tall and thin, her blonde hair naturally curly. She wore it short, which made her big, hazel eyes stand out even more. I thought she was beautiful with or without makeup.

“Dinner followed by drinks at Infinity.” She adjusted the dress and faced me. “I can’t decide what to wear though. Nothing is speaking to me.” A quick glance in the mirror and the dress came off and landed on the floor. Then she took a red dress from its hanger and slid it over her body. “What do you think?”

“Amazing.” I scooted a pile of clothes over and sat on Birdy’s bed, admiring how Birdy looked great in anything. I just wished I had the same luxury. With short legs holding up a five-foot frame topped with a flurry of long, dark hair, my favorite feature was my light blue eyes. Otherwise, I felt ordinary, especially next to Birdy. “Infinity, huh?”

“Yep. We’re celebrating tonight.” She yanked off the red dress, letting it fall to the floor. I couldn’t help but wish my breasts were as small as hers, but I was a solid C.

I fell back on the bed, covering my head with a pillow. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.

“What are you doing? You’re such a prude.” Birdy laughed.

“Maybe I am," I admitted. The pillow muffled my voice, but I didn’t move it. “Let me know when you’re decent.”

“Fine, but only if you agree to come out with me tonight. We’re celebrating you.”

“Me?” I rolled over, removing the pillow so I could see her face. “There’s nothing to celebrate. The interview was a bust and I’ve had a bad day. All I want is a bubble bath and an entire pint of strawberry ice cream.”

“Sorry, Keeks.” Birdy sat on the bed, rubbing my back. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re still gonna party.”

I pushed up, shoving some wayward hair from my face, and checked out my best friend. Her latest dress was fern green with small black polka dots. “You look hot. Go on without me. I don’t want to celebrate.” I covered my face with the pillow again, willing myself not to cry. “What’s wrong with me?”

Birdy grabbed the pillow and met my watery eyes. “Nothing. You’re too fucking good for them. That’s all.” She shook her head. “Life is a cruel, shady place, and most law firms are the soggy dark crevices along the edges.” Birdy would know. She always said her dad was a Great White in an ocean full of reef sharks.

I closed my eyes, desperate. If I didn’t get a job soon, I’d be the most well-educated burger-flipper in the world. “It’s just so sad. Doesn’t anyone want a lawyer who’s honest and has integrity?”

Birdy snickered. “Fuck, no. They don’t want a superhero. They want billable hours, large corporations getting sued for doing something terrible by the little guy, and the corrupt willing to pay whatever it takes to make the problem go away.”

“Seriously?” I asked, but I knew it was true. I unbuttoned my taupe suit jacket and yanked it off, exposing my cream camisole underneath. “I mean, shit," I moaned, shimmying out of my pantyhose before plopping back on the bed.

Birdy scoffed. “Well lawyers are the flies on shit but yeah, basically.” She tucked some of my hair behind an ear.

"Gross," I said, biting my bottom lip. "I want to be one of those flies, Birdy." I crinkled my nose, trying not to think about the visual of flies on shit.

She shook her head like she couldn't understand. “If you want, I can ask my dad to give you a job. You know he would.”

It was true. He told her as much more than once.

Birdy’s dad was the Jonathon Bird of Bird, Myers, and Childress, the most prestigious law firm in New York City. Even though he didn’t necessarily like me, he made it a point to do anything Birdy asked of him. That was his way of parenting.