Move-in day was upon them in no time. Alice and Dana had just arrived bearing coffee from the Planet for everyone.  Shane sauntered over from her house next door with a freshly lit cigarette.  Bette was nervous, but trying not to show it.

The night before was a restless night for Bette.  A small but persistent worry had come over her suddenly.  Who was Tina Kennard, really?   Her emails made her seem very respectful.  And she claimed to be tidy.  Loves to cook.  Doesn’t mind cleaning.  Is willing to do her share.

But who wouldn’t put that in response to a roommate ad?

I should have done a background check, she thought, finally getting out of bed to pace her bedroom floor.  I don’t even know what she looks like.  Maybe Dana was right, she could be absolutely crazy. 

Eventually, Bette was able to calm herself.  She played and replayed their phone conversation the other day in her head.  The ease in which they could talk to one another.  Their shared and understood humor.  Tina couldn’t be crazy.  She was just a small town girl moving to a big city.  They would be okay, right?  They would be okay.

Bette rationalized herself to sleep.

The girls were sitting out on the front porch, waiting for Tina to arrive.  Shane sat silently on the railing smoking.  Bette and Dana were reading bits of the newspaper, switching pages with one other periodically.

Alice: Oh hey! The funnies!   

She reached towards Bette to grab the cartoon section, which she knew no one else read.  Dana quickly reached up and intercepted the paper, grabbing it out of Alice’s hands and snatching it away.

Dana: I’m reading that, she said sternly, looking at the paper intently.

Alice: Dane, you hate the funnies.  You never read them.

Dana:  That’s not true, you’re about to witness me reading them right now. 

Dana buried her head in the section, making a show of laughing too loudly every once in a while, and then closing the paper when Alice asked to see what was so funny.

Alice sighed dejectedly. 

Dana:  Try the classifieds.  Maybe you could find yourself a doghouse to sleep in.

Bette threw her hands up, putting down the paper. 

Bette:  Alright, already.  What gives?

Dana: ALICE (she glared at her pointedly) thought it’d be a good idea to do a podcast on the ins and outs of our sex life.

Shane: (Smirking) Oh yeah, I saw that.

Dana snapped her glare in Shane’s direction.  Shane held up her hands in apology.

Dana: Which has since gotten about a zillion hits. 

Alice: Okay, number one: I’m not that popular.  And number two: think of all the people who’s sex life will be enhanced tenfold just by trying out some of our sexcapades!

Dana:  Alice, this isn’t funny.  I’m a professional athlete, who the hell is going to take me seriously now?

Shane: If I could just interject… Don’t worry, Dana.  This isn’t going to hurt your career.  You’re a great tennis player regardless.

Dana’s face visibly softened.

Dana:  Aw, thanks Shane.

Shane: I’d also like to say that I would have never pegged you as the type of person who would be willing to—

Dana: Enough! She quickly interjected.  Bette smirked to herself at the antics of her friends.

Just then a beeping could be heard from the driveway, and they looked to see a small U-haul pulling up.

Alice: A U-haul, huh Bette?  This is truly symbolic, she teased.

Bette:  Shut up, Al.

They watched as the drivers-side door opened.  What Bette saw first was the blonde hair.  The LA sun streaked through it, whitening it with reflection.  Then came the body, that long, lithe, body that was hugged tight by a white tank top.  Just a hint of skin peeking out above her low-rise jeans.  And then the legs; hidden by the tightness of the denim, leaving much to the imagination.  Bette’s jaw literally dropped.

Shane: Ho-ly shit, she said under her breath.

Alice: You got that right. 

Bette: Alright, she’s coming up. Act normal.