Be Original

Tell Me

"Hayden? Hayden?" I knocked on her door twice before I heard the bed squeak and she opened up. Hayden hadn't spoken to me in a while and she avoided most people except her friends.

She had on a piece sign colorful dress that showed too much of her skin. Her wrist had many bands and she had hoops in. Her white boots were close to her skin and up on her thighs. She wore make up that complemented to the colors of the outfit.

I looked her up and down in awe.

"Hayden . . . where are you going?" I asked, befuddled.

She gave a sassy smile, "I could ask you the same thing." she pointed at my feathery dress that had a belt at my waist so the rest could flow at the bottom. It was a blue dress, like my eyes.

My shoes were simple black sandals.

"Well I asked you first. Can I come in?" I asked her. She took a step back and sat back on her bed. She watched as I walked toward her mirror.

"Hayden, I need your help with this." I pointed to my face.

She chuckled, "What's wrong with your face?"

"It's not pretty enough." I complained and turned to look back in the mirror.

"It looks fine to me. What's all this for?"

I sighed and turned around to her. Sinking to the ground, I bit my lip before speaking.

"I'm going out with a friend. We were going to go to a movie together. I need you to fix me up so I don't look so . . . icky." I explained.

She giggled at my word. I smiled as I missed the sounds of her happiness.

"Icky? Well that's not a good look. Come. I'll help you." she hopped off her bed and stood next to me as she prepared the colors.

"So what are you dressed for?" I asked her as she began to apply light make up on me.

"The gang and I are going to this party. Seniors only." she seemed to try to answer a question she assumed I was going to ask. I stuck my tongue out at her and she giggled again.

"I didn't want to tag along anyway." I smiled.

It was a long time since we had been able to be this happy with each other.

"So what'd you get all dolled up for, little red bird?" I smiled at the nick name. It sounded right when she said it.

"A boy I met at school. It's just a friend thing that's all." I bit my lip at the tilt of her head. She heard the key word.

"A boy?" she smirked. "Who?"

I cleared my throat," Um . . . well um . . ." her eyebrows raised in suspicion, "Chad Franco."

Suddenly her mouth dropped open and she looked at me with a dazed face.

"Chad Franco? The Chad Franco? Is this the same person you had some eyes for on the first day?" she asked, completely astonished.

I nodded once and that's when she placed the curling iron on the table and gasped with her hands on her mouth.

She seemed to be giggling.

"What?" I asked her.

"You can't . . . you can't date Chad Franco." she chuckled.

"What? Why not? It's not a date you know. It's just a friend hangout with a friend.

"Sure." she said sarcastically. "Chad Franco is NEVER simply friends with any girl. It's either you're with him or not. He is completely complicated and is a dog. He isn't your type. It's best you stay away from that type of person."