Fingers tapped against the counter, less in exasperation and more in simple, sheer movement.
"Yeah, drunk. Off his ass," she continued, warming up to the thought that Cat was being so open. Not that most people weren't, just Charlie wasn't, and yet she found herself enjoying complaining to this woman. The only person she'd ever really done such a thing to in her life was Rylee, but she couldn't complain about Rylee to Rylee. Even a bullheaded person like Charlie knew enough sense to not do that.
"Not that he drinks a lot. This was cause'a a friend; I dunno if you know Sam? But he got Ry drunk, fuc-, ah, really drunk, like it was supposed'a help him. With me. I mean, not me, but how he felt. And this," she finished, gesturing at the washer. "Is what happened. Along with a good sized hangover the next day." Even with the unpleasant memory, she found herself almost laughing at it and shaking her head. All of it was really too absurd.