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    Broken Girls with Strange Frames (Ch. 8)

    Story written on July 26, 2005 by rachel_raj.
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    20 votes, average: 3.30 out of 520 votes, average: 3.30 out of 520 votes, average: 3.30 out of 520 votes, average: 3.30 out of 520 votes, average: 3.30 out of 5 (20 votes, average: 3.30 out of 5)
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    Number of Comments: 11
    Words: 5312
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=55635
    Author Notes:

    Alice moves in.

     

    I looked at the list, my eyes glazing over a bit. What kind of a last name was Derfenstein? I snickered.

     

    “Alice? Hey?” Bette snapped her fingers in front my face. “Pay attention.”

     

    I looked up from the list, locking eyes with her. “I am.”

     

    She sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest. “What did I just say, then?”

     

    Oh, my God. Flashback to sixth grade-that time Mrs. Henry caught me passing notes to Nicole Breton-she said the exact same thing.

     

    Dutifully, I repeated the directions back to Bette and she didn’t seem impressed that I had remembered everything she’d said, word-for-word (including the ***** part and the part where she slipped and called my room the study). Then she dumped about fifty-billion more directions on me until she got the bottom of the list and finished with:

     

    “I’m in meetings with artists, mostly, for most of the day, but I’m going to turn my cell phone on around lunchtime, so if you need anything, you have the number there.”

     

    I glanced up from the list and gawked at Bette’s cell phone for a second. “You have a cell phone? What’re you, like, super-important member of society?” Nobody I knew had a cell phone. Except, maybe the president. And I didn’t know him.

     

    “Alice,” Bette said impatiently. “I need you to be serious. Call me if you have any problems.”

     

    “I will.”

     

    “Okay.” She slid her sunglasses on and strode out the door.

     

     

     

    It wasn’t like the work was difficult or anything and it wasn’t even time-consuming, really. I could watch TV while I was sorting papers. And I didn’t even have to get dressed if I didn’t want to, although since Bette said I might have to meet her for lunch, I figured I might as well.

     

    And I was able to fully forgive her when she came home around 6:30 and acted like a normal human. The acerbic General Porter of the morning was replaced by the normal Bette Porter who I had grown fond of at night.

     

    The first thing she said when she walked in was, “Look at this!” and she showed me a pen. “It writes and it lights up. You can write in the dark!”

     

    And who can stay mad in the face of such cuteness?

     

    She’d also brought dinner from a Thai restaurant and had bought the issue of LA Magazine that had finally published my Kit Porter article, so all was good in the Land of Bette and Alice, Roomies. I even started thinking that maybe all her scariness this morning had been a fluke.

     

    Maybe this whole roommates/personal assistant thing was going to work out great.

     

    Which is what is referred to in some circles as “famous last words”.

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    Comments

    1. eeeeeeexcellent (mr burns voice) …how long is your entire story anyway? I’m loving the frequent posts, the only other story I read on a regular basis is updated once a WEEK! (dont get any ideas)

    2. Love the quick posts too. This story , and the telling of it, are “all kinds of awesome”. Alice narrating an episode of the show could be hilarious – that’s if any of the TLW writers could remember that she actually used to be funny!

    6. OMG are you sure your not Alice P from an alternate dimension where Alice P really exists, who has gained access to this universe and thought it would be cool to tell her story cause you have her down cold……

    7. This will never be classified as spam, if so it’s the first time I’d be happy for it. I can just imagine Bette holding that pen! I am out of words to describe this story other than awesome. Keep up the good work.

    9. I have a thought, and it might be crazy: this died-in-the-wool Tibetter is not ready for Tina to enter the story yet. Go figure!
      The Catherine Opie show is two months away – TDay, TDay!!! I’m loving this Alice and Bette story so much I don’t want to advance to the day they inevitably meet. Please, put Tina back in the closet! I love this story. It’s so unique, well-written, better than fine!

    10. “nd when I tried to take a break halfway through and see what she was up to, she was hunched over a ridiculous stack of papers with her glasses on and greeted me with, “I thought you were working.”

      I had this instant image of Ebenezer Scrooge browbeating Bob Crachit as hunches over his desk, trying to get heat from that lonely candlestick and the one coal ember dying in the stove across the room.
      Poor Alice. Never f**k your friends. Never work for them, either.
      Ha!

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