Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 4: A New Adult Romantic Comedy by Adele Huxley, Savan Robbins

I was acutely aware I was standing at a fork in the road. I could turn one way and diffuse the argument altogether, which would probably only delay it. Or I could turn the other direction and press on. I chose the latter. I stubbornly, defiantly, decided to really let Anette have it for once.
    My ears rang. I’m not the greatest with confrontation but knew I’d dug myself into this hole. To back down now would mean admitting I’d done something wrong. I thought to change tactics and maybe throw a little water on the fire of this argument.
    “It’s not a horrible name at all. I actually like it,” I replied smugly, crossing my arms over my chest.
    “Right. Okay. Cause that’s the point we should be discussing. The name of the your secret blog.”
    “Whatever. I don’t see what the big deal is,” I replied. “It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong. All these dates have been weird, bizarre, and downright strange to me. I couldn’t vent to you because you wouldn’t understand or maybe even care outside of telling me ‘Welp, just swipe right, onto the next one. Off you go!’”
    “That’s exactly what Lourdes said,” Anette huffed.
    I lost my cool. “You talked about this with Lourdes?”
    Anette leaned forward and got in my face. “You sent both of us the link. What? Did you think we wouldn’t read it or something?”
    I shrugged dismissively. “Maybe a little. At the very least, I didn’t expect you to go digging.”
    “And I didn’t expect you to fuck one of my best friends behind my back,” she snapped.
    The way she felt she had any sense of ownership over my life burned the last shred of control I had. My voice grew in volume as the argument carried on.
    “You’re right. We shouldn’t have done it behind your back.” She muttered in agreement before I could finish my thought. “I should’ve fucked him right in front of you. Since you seem so into giving me advice and running my life, you could’ve lifted and lowered me on his cock like a little puppet. I’m sure you could do it better, right?”
    “ Pfft , I’m a lesbian.”
    I arched an eyebrow, jabbing a hole in the armor. “Are you?”
    Anette licked her lips as she rose to the challenge. “Why don’t you ask the gorgeous girl I’m about to screw all night?”
    “Eating one salad doesn’t make you a vegetarian,” I shot back. I wasn’t sure where all the anger was coming from. The way my comments were coming harsh and fast seemed to surprise the both of us. She stared at me in surprise and before she could snap back, I pushed even harder.
    “You know what, Anette? Not all of us get to ride that perfect dating roller coaster like you. Except, no. Yours has become a carnival of booty calls, jumping from bed to bed, gender to gender, changing partners to match your outfits. I’m having a little more trouble than you.”
    “Are you about finished?” Anette turned her nose up in the air and held up her hand, palm out, counting out her points on each finger. “Okay for one thing, what the fuck are you saying? You calling me a hoe or something? You make it seem like I am fuckingeverydamnbody and you know good and damn well that’s not the case. But you’re looking at me? Look at you! What the hell are you doing out there? Just handing out pussy handshakes to everybody? You might as well advertise that shit on your little blog. ‘Friendly vagina, inquire within! I have milkshakes, come to my yard!’
    “And two, it’s sad that you’re so jealous that I have the guts to do what I want and who I want. Don’t you pin your hang-ups on me. You could do that shit too if you had the lady balls to do it. Don’t hate the player,” she added with a flick of her hand. “Oh, and if you need sex tips, don’t come looking for me. I’m not teaching you shit.”
    A thick cloud of emotion grew in the room, the silence almost deafening compared to our loud voices only a moment before. We were lost in the fog of our first major fight