The Dirty Girls Social Club
Chapter One
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twice a year, every year, the sucias show up. Me, Elizabeth, Sara, Rebecca,
Usnavys, and Amber. We can be anywhere in the world-and,
being sucias, we travel a lot-but we get on a plane, train, whatever,
and get back to Boston for a night of food, drink (my specialty), chisme y
charla. (That's gossip and chat, y'all.)
We've done this for six years, ever since we graduated from Boston University
and promised each other to meet twice a year, every year, for the rest
of our lives. Yeah, it's a big commitment. But you know how melodramatic
college girls can get. And, hey, so far we've done it, you know? So far, most
of us have not missed a single meeting of the Buena Sucia Social Club. And
that, my friends, is because we sucias are responsible and committed, which
is way more than I can say for most of the men I've known and Ed the
bigheaded Texican in particular.
I'll get to that in a minute.
I'm here waiting for them now, slouched in an orange plastic window
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