Life Of A Bitch

20

Brandon snaps out of his shock and barks, "Are you crazy, Jennifer?"

I am still in a shock and don't respond to him. All that is running in my brain is: I slapped Brandon with a shoe, I slapped Brandon with a shoe.

"I'm so sorry, Brandon." Alz intervenes. "She was born this way."

Brandon shakes his head and rubs his cheek. "Well, if she was born this way, you should've kept her at home, Alice."

My cheeks redden as I try to speak. "Well— um, it's just that, I didn't see your face—and you were offering Alz a chocolate— well, I thought you were a stranger—"

He deadpans at me. "And you thought I was drugging her to kidnap her."

Alz bursts out laughing. "Lol! Jen, I know about Stranger Danger, okay? I met Brandon in the 'Princess' aisle and look what dress he suggested to me!"

And then I realise Alz is not in her jeans and jacket. Instead, she's wearing this violet sleeveless frock with a halter neckline and a tulle skirt, ending high above her knee. The bodice was covered with sparkles and oh God, does she look pretty.

"Brandon chose this for you?" I ask Alz, looking surprised at Brandon. He winks at Alz, who winks back at him.

"Yeah, this is his aunt's shop and he was called in to help today, as he is every Friday." Alz says, preening herself in front of the wall-length mirror. "All he does is loiter and and scroll through his phone. So when I ran into him, I complained to him about our situation and he offered to help!"

Brandon salutes her. "Anything for my PUBG buddy!"

Wait, they play PUBG together?

Alz seems to read my mind, to which she says, "Brandon and I play PUBG together since the game was developed. He isn't bad at it."

"Yeah, not as good as you, Alice. Is that what you want me to admit?" He asks her.

Alz nods. Brandon laughs. "Then I was really hungry, because I didn't have my evening snack, because of you." She says, pouting. "So Brandon offered me a chocolate."

Woah, they're like real good friends. And the fact that I didn't know about this kind of makes my whole life a lie.

I clear my throat and intervene their jovial PUBG conversation, which I understand nothing of. "So, Alz. Do you like it?"

She beams at me. "Of course! This is the best dress I've ever seen. Definitely better than those pigeon-feathers that you picked up for me."

I scowl at her and then look at the dresses in my arms. Yes, they were too gaudy and bright. Like the costumes at Pride Parade.

"Well, then let's buy it and go back home." I say, wanting to end this miserable running-into-Brandon-fiasco right now. I swear I would have nightmares about it for the rest of my life.

Alz nods in agreement and goes back into the changing room to change back into her jeans. Great, now it's just Brandon and me and its awkward.

I try to start a conversation. "Uh, I heard your girlfriend got nominated to the SQ Finale. Congrats."

Brandon looks at me and sighs. "Of course you heard about it."

I try to dig something out of him; anything, from 'Michelle has changed' to 'This relationship is making me miserable'. "You don't seem to be much happy about it."

He narrows his eyes at me, frowning. "I am. What makes you think that?"

I shake my head quickly. "No, nothing."

He rolls his eyes and looks away. "Michelle's not my girlfriend. Not yet. We're just dating."

I nod, my heart probably spewing rainbow-coloured vomit everywhere inside my body.

Michelle's not his girlfriend!

"Anyway, thanks for helping us out." I say and smile. "We were really stuck about her SQ costume."

He laughs. "I didn't help you. I helped Alice, who is a really nice girl."

Unlike me. I get what you're trying to say, Brandon.

Fortunately, Alice comes out of the changing room at that moment and after she bids Brandon good-bye, we head over to the cash counter and wait in the line.

"Alz, why didn't you tell me you're good friends with Brandon?" I whisper.

She ponders about it for a while. "Well, you and your guys hate him. So I thought, if you got to know about this, you'll force me to stay away from him."

I look at her, aghast. "Why would I do that?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. You're unpredictable; you might do anything. Outside, you're still a bitch and you might fear your guys knowing about me being friends with him. So, why risk it, I thought."

I sigh but keep quiet. She's right; I might have done something like it. Ugh, I'm so terrible. Not to worry, only a few months left.

You mean, more than half an academic year?

Really, conscience? Why do you have to worsen every situation?

I pay for the frock and we drive back home, being quiet the whole time.

I need to relax, and rehearse the lines of my speech again and again, so that nothing goes wrong tomorrow night.

I hope nothing goes wrong tomorrow night.