Gone

“That asshole,” Manny commented as she slammed her door shut. I’d wanted to call her the night before, but I’d chickened out, convincing myself that I was too tired, and waited until I picked her up for school to fill her in on the state of the union. “He didn’t even say bye or thank you for the date or anything?”

“No. He just acted like a spoiled toddler who had been told that he couldn’t have the toy truck he wanted in the store, all pouty and angry and annoying.”

“So you want to know your next move?” Manny turned to me and raised one of her thin, dark eyebrows as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “You break up with him. As soon as possible. If he doesn’t respect you, then you don’t need to make his life better by staying with him.”

She was right, but I didn’t want to think about breaking up with Liam. After the trials I had to go through to warm up to him (which probably wasn’t as hard as I liked to think it was), it seemed like a waste to give up after the first fight. We just needed to work through it when we weren’t so sensitive, and we’d be fine.

“I don’t want to duck out. Maybe, if I just explain to him what the issue is, then it’ll work out fine.”

Manny rolled her eyes as we walked through the front doors to the school, but she didn’t make a move to argue with me. “So Wednesday’s Halloween. Are you going to come to Pat Forester’s party with me, or no? We could go as a couple of Disney princess, except a little sexed-up. You could be Cinderella, and I’ll be…Pocahontas! What do you say, are you up for it?”

I gnawed on my lip for a second before shrugging. “I don’t know. Liam might want to do something, you know?”

“I think that you wouldn’t be up for whatever he wants to do,” she told me honestly as we approached our lockers. The two of us spun the dials on our locks without even having to think, the numbers so embedded in our brains that we couldn’t hope to forget them. “Plus, it’ll do you some good to stay away from him for a little while, you know? He’s acting like a little bitch, so just give him a break, and he’ll get an attitude adjustment.”

Hm. She certainly had some sound reasoning there. Maybe a little time apart would do us good.

“Then yeah, I’ll go as Sexy Cinderella,” I agreed. “Meet at my place at six to get ready?”

“No, make that five. If I’m going to have to do your hair in that weird bun thing that Cinderella does, I’m going to need time.”

“So don’t do the bun. Just do, like loose beach waves in my hair or something. That’s sexy, right?”

Manny’s hazel eyes got a fire lit behind them as she nodded. “Oh, yes, absolutely. I’m getting mental images now. We’ll go after your practice to pick up the outfits at the costume store, okay?”

Just then, the bell rang, and the two of us shared frightened looks. We were late.

“After practice!” I called at her before racing down the hallway to make it to class before my teacher had the chance to mark me tardy.



“Wow,” Manny commented with a huge grin as I stepped out of the dressing room, clad in the bustier and high-waisted short skirt that comprised my outfit. Both pieces of “clothing” were made out of that signature Cinderella light blue, and the outfit came complete with “glass slippers” (plastic stripper heels) and a headband. “You look totally bangable. Not that I do chicks, but…”

I laughed and turned to look at myself in the mirror, shrugging slightly. “I guess it looks alright.”

“Alright?!” She made an offended scoffing noise as she got to her feet, a smirk still on her face as she appraised my body. “Your body looks fucking kick-ass. You’re about ten seconds from making me think I should take up soccer so I can be as toned as you.”

“Shut up, Manny. You’re beautiful.” I let off the fact that, during my more insecure moments, I would have given my first-born child for her full curves. “But I’m okay?”

“You’re fantastic. Now change, come out here, and then I’ll do my little fashion show.”

I did as I was told, slipping back on my pair of black skinny jeans and oversized sweatshirt as quickly as I could, folding the costume as well as I could (which was nowhere near well) and shoving it back into the packaging before reemerging.

And the second I showed my face, Manny was gone, into the dressing room, the bag that held her costume smacking against the her hip as she scampered. Not that she seemed to notice or care about the possible pain inflicted.

Unlike me, who had to adjust my costume five hundred times before I dared to step out into public, since I felt so uncomfortable, Manny took about ten seconds to change. She just emerged, showing off the cleavage-baring, leg-showing Native American-inspired costume. It was tan with little fringe on the bottom, which fluttered against her upper thighs every time she moved.

“How do I look?” she asked, though the expression on her face communicated that she knew she was hot.

“I think we should just give up on guys and date each other,” I joked, pretending to roam over her curvy body with my eyes. “Because I’d fuck you in a second.”

“Fabulous. Now, maybe I’ll get over Ben once and for all.”

Once she realized what she’d said, she pressed her lips together and turned back to the mirror. “Are you sure this doesn’t make me look wide?” she mused, putting her hands on where her waist was at its narrowest. “I feel like right here is just…expansive.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You look incredible,” I complimented, getting out of my seat and crossing my arms in front of my chest. “But did you just say that you’re not over Ben?”

“Of course I’m not, Frankie.” She didn’t sound hurt or angry in the least, just matter-of-fact. “I thought this boy was going to treat me like a princess, no pun intended, and he ended up stabbing me in the back. I can’t move on from that overnight. But at this party, I’ll find someone ten times hotter to hook up with, and then Ben will be ancient history.”

I wanted to lecture her about how getting under someone else was not going to help her get over Ben, but I didn’t want to sound like I was getting on a soapbox. So I just sighed and rubbed my forehead. If that was how she wanted to handle the situation, then who was I to judge her for it? It was her life, and she could do what she wanted with it.

“Alright, change back into your clothes, and we’ll buy these babies.”

Manny nodded and hurried back into the changing room, probably thankful for the escape from the awkward conversation. Not that the situation should have made her feel uncomfortable when it was just me, but whatever.

Soon, she was back out, and we paid for our slut costumes and were back out in the sunshine of a particularly warm day. “So can we get frozen yogurt?” Manny asked, batting her eyelashes. “Because the new place is down there, and I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Sure,” I replied. I was the kind of person who couldn’t eat ice cream or anything frozen when it was cold outside, since it just made me shiver until my teeth chattered, so my days of frozen yogurt were starting to dwindle. I might as well have seized the opportunity while I could.