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This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

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"Mm," she says, noncommittal at first.

"I used to be a party girl. Didn't matter what kind of party - fiestas, rodeos, barbecues, clubs, I loved 'em all. Dallas was a good mix for that. Lots of cowboys, mestizos, soldiers, street racers. All of 'em."

He can picture it, Rosita moving from party to party as effortlessly as a butterfly moving from flower to flower.

"Might be nice to have a night out like that again."

"Yeah. The only catch is - none of that really mattered, you know?"

She's gone to bars and clubs here, she's invited herself to parties when she needed to not think about other things.

"It's how I get through quota here, too. Doesn't matter. Have some fun, move on."

"He matters to you. You know where the line is with him now...you know what you can't rely on him for." As painful as that is, few people get to see those boundaries in real time.

"You can still have fun with him."

"I can," she agrees. It's a possibility at least.

"But I'm a bitch, J. I know how I swing when I'm hurt. And I know how easily I let that happen."

He looks at her steadily. "You're allowed to be hurt. See how it goes. You're never going to get anywhere but where you two are at right now if you don't try, and clearly neither of you like where things are at right now."

"Is that advice you'd be happy to take yourself?" she wonders.

"If you cared more about someone than they do about you, and knowing that pisses you off and tears you up every time you think about it, would you keep going around them just to see what good could be salvaged knowing they'll always be more important to you than you are to them?"

Edited Date: 2023-04-23 09:53 pm (UTC)

"I have had to take it. It hurts. It keeps hurting. But for me it was better than just losing them completely." He has no idea if that will be true for her or Carver. There are no good options here.

"That's why I don't want to cut him out of Creekside completely," she admits.

"But having someone as an ally and going on a date with them are two completely different things. You don't see me asking Ezekiel out for a drink."

"Carol would kill you." But he gets what she's saying. "Did you ask Carver? Or did he ask you?"

"No she wouldn't," Rosita can say with some confidence. She's far too sensible for that.

But anyway: "He asked me. All I said was I did want to see him around again, but it was text, so."

Well, that's good, at least. If she had asked Carver this would have turned into a different conversation.

"So you said yes," he fills in. "Because you're willing to let him try."

"Because I'm a glutton for punishment, plus, have you seen his shoulders?"

It's a weak attempt at humor, not the least because she knows he has.

"But yes. I did. And I set the time."

"I've never had the same partner as a friend of mine," he muses, amused all over again that they can both ogle the same man.

"What are you going to wear?"

She smirks - "Me either," she admits, - but she's glad it's Jesus. Glad that both he and Carver still have that at least, and between them anyway it doesn't have to be complicated.

Then she wrinkles her nose.

"Tradition dictates hard kitschy Western. The tighter the better."

She has a flannel shirt, but he frowns. "Maybe we should shop tomorrow. I need to pick up some new shirts anyway."

"I'm gonna need to shop regardless," she admits. "I don't really have anything between survivor chic and high roller slut."

"Anything I own that's not layers and baggy was chosen by you," he retorts.

"Do you even know what kitschy Western is?" she snorts.

"I had a shirt that was an American flag. In sequins. And I had feathered bangs and teased ponytails. And fringe."

A groan that's half-chuckle. "Please don't wear an American flag to a date with a veteran."

"I doubt they even have that option here - and for the record? I wouldn't do that if I was fishing for a soldier." That type of apparel has one target and one target only.

"I'm damn near a professional."

That's a relief. "So Western chic, then. Tight, with fringe. I think he'll like it."

"And pigtails," she adds. "And a hat."

If she's going to go all in, might as well go all the way in. "I've always liked pigtails. Haters can suck it."