"No," Beca says again, this time with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.
"Come on, Becs," Stacie tries. "We're in L.A., we should live a little!"
This part of Stacie's argument, Beca can't counter.
"Besides, what better way to hit the L.A. club scene than with a goal to get laid?" Stacie continues, reiterating an argument they've had three times already since Stacie landed the other day.
That is the portion Beca takes issue with. "I don't want to get laid by some random, Stace."
Stacie rolls her eyes, flipping through the hangers of clothes in Beca's closet. "Look, Becs, I'm sorry. But you know that the best way to get over somebody is to get under someone else."
Almost violently, Beca shakes her head. "No. I do not know that. Not at all."
It takes another couple of seconds, but Stacie turns to face Beca clutching a sexy dark blue button up. "You should wear this."
Beca glares.
Stacie rolls her eyes. "Beca Mitchell, I know where you got this shirt, and you are wearing it tonight while I try to get you laid. You need to move on, girl, Chloe has."
If Stacie thinks that comment would somehow magically persuade Beca that going to a club was a good idea, then she is dead wrong.
"Look, Stace, I don't expect you to understand, okay?" Beca says. "What I do expect, from my friend, is to be listened to. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Get. Laid." Beca says very clearly, a little louder than truly necessary. "I can wear the shirt, we can go to a club, and you can find someone to get down with, but if you try to find someone for me, I'm out. You hear?"
Looking a little apologetic, Stacie nods. Beca takes the shirt from her and turns around to peel off her v-neck tee. She pulls on the blue shirt, buttons it up two shy of the top, and turns around.
Stacie's still looking appreciatively. "Damn, Becs, you've got a nice back."
Beca rolls her eyes. "Okay, weirdo, get changed and we'll go."