I Write Romances, Not Live Them

Chapter 10

"In my experience, boys are predictable. As soon as they think of something, they do it. Girls are smarter-they plan ahead. They think about not getting caught." - Eoin Colfer, Half Moon Investigations

Before going to see Elliot at the end of the day, Bria insisted she re-do my makeup. Resulting in a heated argument from me.

"Just a little foundation? Come on Addy!" She pleaded, and I still shook my head and refused.

"No, I'm not putting that stuff on my face again!" I yelled back.

It went on like this for some time, and I didn't budge. I was as stubborn as a donkey, and Bria told me as such. Of course, her language was a bit more unorthodox. We got off on that same tangent we always did in high school, the swearing argument. Best friends always fight, and we always have the same fights. The matchmaker fights, the swearing fights, the makeup fights, the drinking fights, over and over again. I win some, and so does she.

"Fine, compromise?" Bria reasoned-something different. Usually she gave up and let me put on only my lip balm.

"What kind of compromise?" I asked suspiciously, our arguments never ended in compromises, we were both too stubborn for that.

"I do the lightest, easiest kind of makeup I can and you see if you'll like it." Then came her doe eyes, those big brown ones I just melt into. I agreed and let myself be her doll for the next few minutes.

She didn't take long, only applying a powder, something red to my cheeks, and using a pencil around my eye. But after looking at myself in the mirror, I was fully convinced my best friend was a wizard.

"See, easy enough. You like it, admit it." she teased, watching me as I inspected my new face. I did like it, which I admitted reluctantly. I just don't loose arguments, it's like my ultimate pet peeve.

"Yes. I do." I rolled my eyes at her egotistical expression, "Now, what exactly am I supposed to do, again?" I asked, referring to what she'd told me the other night about how to approach Elliot. I should've taken notes. It seemed Bria could write a boy handbook if she wanted. Her big hair is full of secrets, mine is full of fantasies and a built in thesaurus.

"Just be cool, like a sultry librarian. Act like you care less than he does about being there. It will confuse him, make him want to make you happier. Trust me." She assured me. She's always so sure about everything, unlike myself. I was nervous the whole way there. When Bria left me in the lobby to wait, my feet started to wobble.

Bria sat down on a bench in the lobby, occupying herself with her fancy phone. Her flats that she made me wear along with some new pieces of clothing, a black jacket and striped tank-top with my comfy black skinny jeans, kept making small click sounds on the floor. The sound was foreboding, it reminded me of all those business women and their heels, sharp as nails and ready to drive through the heart of any innocent pedestrian. Maybe it was my overwhelming imagination, but I classed those women amongst the likes of the receptionist who had become my enemy. And then when I saw her, I knew exactly what to do.

[Problematic thing deleted here because I'm tired of the email notifications. Read my disclaimer and take it seriously.]

There was no question, she knew I'd had my eyes on Elliot. That smug smirk of hers plastered on those pretty pink lips, she flipped her black hair behind her shoulder. I wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off her face, screw being the bigger person. I glared back, letting my lips tug up into the look of a girl who knows what she's doing, intimidating little smile as I passed. For a second my eyes clicked for the first time to the little placecard on her desk that I had neglected to read for years. In those little gold engraved letters read her name 'Marissa McCabe'. Marissa, such a cute name for someone so evil.