Standing Room Only

“I never wanted to go to the tea party.  Why do we even need to go to the party?  I want to just stay home and avoid Sydney at all costs.  She is terrible.”  I tried to put the emphasis on my last sentence, but don’t know if Jenny was picking up on my dislike for Sydney. 

Honestly, I never really liked tea either, but could force it down if there was an option for food.  Eating something other than Ramen noodles was always a draw for me.  And by the look of things, there might be an opportunity to put something a little stronger in my tea. 

As the tea/brunch/party (what is this even for) dragged on, I saw others eyeing the cabinet of liquor as well.  After an hour and a half, we were all running out of small talk and nice things to say.  I looked back at Sydney and watched her fight to keep her eyes open. 

I wondered how and what else I could do to get her to like me.  How I could convince her I hadn’t gotten her fired and lost her health insurance. But to a certain degree, I didn’t care too much about what she thought. She had said enough terrible things to me and about me that I didn’t want to make nice. 

As soon as the mimosas were poured, I just wanted for my chance to pounce. I pounced and I never looked back.