Free Forever by Allyson Young

Sandra?”
    “Experience, honey, hard- earned experience. And besides, I know you. I heard something in your voice this morning that scared the crap out of me. I knew if you didn’t get moving, you’d perseverate and figure out a way to lie to yourself. You don’t have much to compare to.”
    “What did you hear?” Her voice trembled , and she made an effort to bring it under control.
    “I heard an Amy I haven’t heard before.”
    “What?” she scoffed. “You called me after one of my aborted efforts to connect with a guy, like usual, and you heard somebody new? Like a split personality?”
    Sandra didn’t laugh, didn’t crack a smile. She kept her big eyes fixed on Amy’s. “What happened, honey?”
    “We fucked.” There, crude and to the point.
    “Here you go, two specials. More coffee?” An enormous plate was set in front of them, filled with pancakes, eggs and sausages, two strips of bacon, toast and hash browns. Amy’s stomach roiled in self defense, no longer hungry. Their cups topped up, the waitress moved away, leaving her no choice but to continue the conversation.
    “Okay, honey. Whenever you’re ready.” Sandra carved a small section of her pancakes with the same precision she used when dissecting Amy’s pathetic excuses and protests. It was kind of like dealing with your alter ego, albeit without the Id.
    Sulking, she shoved a hunk of sausage in her mouth and chewed it down. After doctoring her coffee with cream, she took a sip. Sandra waited her out. Jesus Christ.
    “Okay. There was something different. You satisfied? I felt different with a jerk who wants sex with no strings. Isn’t that just a slap in the face?” She blinked back the tears. “I knew it. He told me, warned me. But I just had to go and get into bed with him, just like old times and…”
    “Amy, honey. No crime to want somebody.”
    “What are you saying?” Other patrons actually turned in their seats to stare. She probably didn’t need to scream at Sandra. She didn’t want to want that man!
    Unperturbed, her friend smiled. “You had sex with somebody who touched you with more than just his body. I’m sorry it didn’t end well and upset you, but it’s okay. I was afraid he’d hurt you physically. It’s progress. Do you see?”
    She did not see. Breathing heavily, she tried to order her thoughts. “I took a guy home with me you warned me against. We had sex. I felt something different. He was an asshole and I kicked him out. I feel shitty about last night. How is that progress ?” The acerbic whisper didn’t carry as far, but Sandra heard her .
    “You always feel shitty about meaningless sex, being used over and over. At least this time around you got past that. So he’s not the guy for you. You now have a different measuring stick. A chance at a relationship involving more than sex.”
    Her best friend, her only friend, was certifiable. She decided to share the lube story and was gratified to make Sandra laugh. It made her laugh again , too, and if she wished for a different outcome, wished Dean Chambray was a different kind of man, maybe Sandra was right. She’d be looking for someone with additional qualities from here on in. Once she figured those qualities out. But God, this shit was tough on a person.
    Eating a little more of the decadent breakfast, they talked desultorily about their plans for the day, about Sandra cleaning her house, and Amy working on a client’s web design request, and they agreed Sandra would make dinner for them both around seven. Amy knew she’d go home and screw the pooch, thinking about what her friend posited instead of getting the job done so she could pay her bills.
    They cruised up to her house, Sandra humming along with Adele, something about rumors, Amy wishing she’d eaten more of her breakfast, when she saw it. A big, black truck parked in her driveway, pulled up close behind her Audi, perilously close to old man Zuchinski’s invisible line. Her friend hammered