The day after, Debra took a walk from her house down a few blocks over to Andrea's house. Once she arrived, she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. She started to think about what would Andrea's reactions be if she told her about the chattering of her boyfriend. After several seconds, the door opened with Andrea poking her head out.
"Hey, Debbie!" she greeted.
"Hey, Andy," Debra greeted back.
"What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming."
"Oh, this is just a quick stop. I need to talk to you."
"Oh, sure. Come on in."
Debra entered the bright orange house with Andrea closing the door for her. Debra took a few steps into the pink and white lobby and turned around to face Andrea.
"Well, sit down, moza amiga," said Andrea.
"Actually, I want to tell you something before I make myself comfortable as it might make you tense."
"Okay. Then tell me."
"Alright. First, how are you and Enrique Iglesias doing?"
"Ricardo Iglesias."
"Ricardo Iglesias. That's what I meant."
"Well, we're doing fantastic. We do better and better every day. I think I might love him."
"Oh, well, you're going to hate me after this," she smiled nervously.
"Why?"
"Um... don't take this personal. Think about me saying it because I love you."
"What is it?"
"Say you love me back."
"I love you. What is it?"
"Well... me and the girls are happy that you got a boyfriend. Actually, more than happy. Ecstatic! But you have this little habit that we want you to look over."
"Oh, is it the way I talk? I started to notice that my voice gets slightly American-sounding when I talk too long. It's probably because I'm near Americans every day. I'll try to work on it because let me tell you: it's freaking me out, too."
"No, it's not about your accent. It's about Ricardo."
"Oh. Well, that makes sense since you were talking about my relationship."
"Yeah. So about Ricardo -- and like I said, we're ecstatic -- you talk about him too much."
Andrea stared at Debra as if she blacked out. "What do you mean?"
"Well, for example, when we asked you about your day, your answer involved Ricardo."
"Well, yeah. I had a good day because I was talking to Ricardo earlier."
"And that's okay. But when you talk to Ricardo, you end up talking about Ricardo."
"What's wrong with talking about a boyfriend?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. It's just that you talk about him more than you talk about yourself."
"Debbie, I'm not egotistical."
"I know but you act like he's perfect."
"He is perfect."
"Nobody's perfect."
"Just because Hannah Montana sung about that doesn't mean it's true."
"Andy, I love you. Me and the girls love you. But we would really appreciate it if you didn't talk about your boyfriend so much."
"Oh, I see how it is."
"I was afraid this was going to happen."
"You and the girls are just jealous because I am the only one in our group that has a man."
"No, it's not that at all. We're just tired."
"Oh, you're tired of me?"
"Now I didn't say that."
"Yes, you did."
"Well, I didn't mean it that way."
"Ricardo makes me happy and you're convincing me to break up with him."
"No, I'm convincing you to stop talking about him."
"So you're admitting you're trying to convince me?"
"Man, I wish talking to girls were easy."
"I can't believe you came to my house to tell me how to date."
"Zen! Zen!"
Andrea paused. "What is wrong with you?"
"I don't know. I actually thought it would work. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Debra, if you were my friend, you'd want me to be happy."
"I do want you to be happy. And I am your friend! Weren't you listening?!"
"Hey, what's all the commotion?" Ricardo said, running down the wooden stairs.
"Oh, come on!" said Debra. "He's here?"
"Debra, you will one day find a boy who will love, cherish and appreciate you," said Andrea. "But until you do, you cannot pick on my boyfriend."
"I wasn't picking on your boyfriend!"
"You called him Enrique."
"That's because his last name is Iglesias. I can't confuse a teenage Latino with a Latin singer who used to have a mole?"
"I don't care, Debra. I just don't care."
"Well, care about this. I'm leaving!"
She stomped past Andrea towards the door.
"Good, you came for no reason anyway," Andrea turned around.
"Oh, I come for reasons!" Debra twisted the knob on the door but it did not open. She then unlocked all of the four golden locks on the door. "You got too many locks on your door," she said, opening it and exiting. She slammed it closed.
Ricardo walked over to Andrea who sighed deeply. "Whoa, what was that all about?" he asked, embracing her.
"Debra says that she and my other friends are complaining about me talking about you," she replied.
"What?"
"I know, right?"
"There's nothing wrong with talking about your boyfriend."
"That's what I said! But Debra said that I talk about you too much."
"I don't find anything wrong with that. I'm flattered."
"Good. Plus, don't you talk about me?"
"Hardly."
Andrea frowned. "Oh."
"But it's nothing personal. You know you're special."
"Yeah," she laughed, awkwardly.
"I can't believe that your friends would say that though. You need to stop hanging out with them."
Andrea released from Ricardo's embrace. "What?" she scrunched her face.
"Your friends obviously don't like me. You might as well have friends who do like me, right?"
"R- Right?"
"Yeah, you need friends who are normal and don't dress up like John Lennon."
"Her name is Debra."
"Sure. Look, Andrea, it's you and me in this relationship. Not you, me and your friends. So if you stop hanging out with your nappy friends, we can be together for a long time."
Andrea smiled in feign. "Okay. Well, before I do that, may I ask you a question?"
"Sure, you can ask me anything, baby."
"Okay." She walked into the corner of the lounge towards a long, wooden pot. Sticking out of the pot is a wooden cane which she picks up. She walked back to Ricardo, facing him from a foot away and holding the cane pointing up. "Let me ask you this: have you ever heard of a human popsicle?"
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