Game 6

Chapter Nine

       "Shopping?" I repeated, my eyebrows raised.

       Carrie grinned widely. "Yeah!" She said. "We were invited to a party; your first party. I think that deserves some new clothes."

       I rolled my eyes. "What's wrong with the clothes I already have?" I asked.

       Carrie forced a laugh. "Ha!" She cried. "Oh, nothing at all, Dianna. It's just all your clothes looks like you're either a twelve year old who really likes black or an old lady obessesed with giant sweaters that you could die in. So, yeah; nothing at all."

       I frowned, because Carrie really did have a point. I had the same clothes since grade eight and without her, I doubt I would go shopping by myself. And for my first party, I don't think I want to show up in a pink shirt with a unicorn on the sleeve (although that would be pretty killer).

       "Fine." I mumbled. Carrie squealed in that way apparently all girls, besides me, could do. She grabbed my wrist and began to pull me towards the door; I struggled to remove myself from her death grip, her fake nails were really pinching my skin.

       But Carrie was too exctied to even notice.

***

       I cursed under my breath, which caused Carrie to glare at me.

       "No way." I said, scuffing afterwards.

       Carrie frowned. "Why not?" She whined; she grabbed my arm and practically swung off of it. I began to feel really comfortable when I noticed a few people glancing at us.

       I tried to wiggle my arm free. "No way," I repeated sternly. "Am I going into American Apparel."

       "But why?" Carrie cried, dragging on her 'why' way long than what was actually nesscessary.

       I stared up at the black and white Americal Apparel sign hanging over our heads with dread. I sighed, "I don't like their clothes." I said. Which was actually pretty true. And I knew damn well that I wouldn't look good in any of their clothing.

       My best friend rolled her eyes. "You don't have to like them, silly." She said, flicking the tip of my nose. "Just boys have to like them."

       "No, Carrie." I turned away from the clothing store.

       "Please?" She asked.

       "No."

       "Ple-ease!" Carrie begged, this time raising her voice ever so slightly.

       I shook my head. "Absolutely not." I told her.

       Carrie raised an eyebrow and stood up straight so she was now looking directly into my eyes. "I'll scream." She threatened quietly; she knew how much I hated drawing attention to myself.

       "You wouldn't." I said the cliche line, narowing my eyes. Although I did know that she would scream; she's insane like that.

       Carrie leaned in closer. "Try me."

       "Fine, go ahead." I said. I folded my arms and turned my back to her. "I don't really care." However, I did care; my palms were already sweating from the idea of Carrie causing a scene in the middle of this crowded mall.

       "Ok, then." Carrie said. "PLEA-"

       I whipped around and covered Carrie's mouth with my hand before she could even finish the word. A few people turned around to look at us, some stopping and staring at the fact that I had my hand over Carrie's huge mouth.