P.S. I Loathe You.

After making sure that the company would send the bill separately, I changed this time – a stretchy black cami from A&F with a pair of old Sevens skinny jeans – if I couldn’t beat them, join them.

Right?

Anyways, after changing (and ‘borrowing’ a pair of red Converse low-tops from part-blonde-part-brunette girl), I had to get back to work – this was the mid-day shift, the slowest one according to many other kids. And you know what? They were right. The day was the slowest thing ever, and I was just waiting around for thatcute chubby guy fat ass to show up so I could slap him with the bill. And show up he did – he apparently ordered a bagel… And a cup of coffee. Frowning, I gave him the paper cup as he looked downwards at the toes of his own red converse shoes (his were high-tops,) muttering to himself. This time, he didn’t spill it, merely taking the cup along with the paper plate that had the 2 bagels and a small packet of honey.

“I’ll get the bill to you once the dry cleaner gives the shirt back.” I said, a small frown on my face with my arms crossed(GOD, HE WAS SO CUTE) as I noticed the guy with the short-cropped black hair, smirking towards the boy standing across from me.

He smiled in a strange way – morose, saddened almost. “Erm… Hey. I’m sorry about that shirt. I’ll pay the bill if you get it to me next week.” He murmured in a quiet voice, smiling apologetically.

“You better.” I replied, shrugging slightly.

A long, and very awkward silence occurred, causing me to look to the side and spot greasy-black-hair again, who was apparently… Walking towards us now. Huh?

“Hey, Patrick. Did you cause any more wet t-shirt contests today?” he asked sarcastically, a cocky smirk on his face as he patted my shoulder – I squealed slightly and oriented myself away from this… Homosexual person. Hmm. Patrick. Interesting name.NOT

‘Patrick’ laughed awkwardly. Taking the lame-ass joke as an excuse to check me out, his eyes scanned my black tank-top. “Nope, don’t think so.” He replied finally as he took his eyes off of me, grinning slightly awkwardly at his friend.

Finally, greasy-black turned his attention to me. “Hey. My name’s Pete. This awkward fellow is Patrick, my bandmate.” Pete said, smirking a little as he stuck his hand out for me to shake. Usually, I would shake it back but thischildperson … Thing was scaring me. I inched away from the hand, smiling awkwardly.

Patrick laughed as I inched away from him – and this time it wasn’t awkward. It was real. Like, not ‘oh ha-ha, that’s funny’ laugh, but a genuine one. His white teeth grinned and his grayish-blue eyes seemingly twinkled slightly in the dim light. Even without the popped collar and the khaki pants, this boy was making me giggle – which I was doing now. Pete watched with an amused look – he looked… Jealous. Huh.

Turning to me, Pete smirked again. “Hey, if you’ll deliver a bag of bagels backstage at our show tomorrow, we’ll see that you get some… Action.” He said mysteriously, and rolling my eyes. I just nodded and got up, seeing my supervisor nod at me, knowing it was time for me to leave.
--

I was back in the bus. Guh. I needed to find something to go out in now – I needed Starbucks.

Once I crashed through the suitcases again, I dug through to try and find my boots - $600, Eelskin Manolo stiletto boots. They were deep-forest green in color, and I knew every aspect of them – but they were gone. Gone! Looking up and about to scream at someone again, I realized something – Part-Blonde-Part-Black girl was wearing them. MY SIX-EFFING-HUNDRED-DOLLAR SHOES.

“Why are you wearing my shoes?” I asked calmly, my arms crossed across my chest, my eyebrows raised. She surveyed me with an amused smirk, and shrugged. “Since you were borrowing my shoes,” She said, “I thought I could borrow yours.”

I looked down – I had completely forgotten. I was wearing the red low-tops – no wonder my feet were so comfy in them. Looking back up at her outfit, I surveyed it – and couldn’t help but crack up. The colors completely clashed – bright-electric pink skinny jeans and a lime-green top, with an electric blue pair of sunglasses on the top of her head. The boots completely clashed the outfit. The girl looked down where I was looking, paused, and started to laugh with me. Within minutes, we were both on the ground, laughing our asses off.

Wiping a stray tear and smudging her electric-blue eyeliner, she choked back a giggle. “I-I’m T-t-Taylor.”

“W-Willa.” I replied, gasping for air as I started to giggle again. People were still staring at us, mostly, but we didn’t care. We were having way too much fun.

“You’re obviously a prep. We should go to a show together.”

“Sure, why not.”