𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

1

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Part One...

A few months ago....

"Of all the lectures I have today, why did Computer Fundamentals have to be the first thing on a Monday of all days." Maren groaned.

"Did you forget to do last week's practical again?" I asked, already knowing that she did. It wasn't the first time that she had forgotten to do an assignment, tutorial and practical and therefore had to crunch through them at the last minute. But despite all that, she never scored anything below a 60%. How she did it was still a mystery to me.

"You know how Steve gets if you miss deadlines." I reminded her.

"How he feels about it is the least of my worries, Bee." She scoffed. "It takes everything in me not to drop face first on my desk and sleep through his lecturers honestly."

"He can't be that bad."

"Girl, he sounds like he wants to be anywhere but a room full of senior year students teaching them how to use a gaddamn computer when it's pretty much common knowledge and shit we've been taught since middle school," she told me. "but he has to because the pay is good. And as long as he gets paid, he has to endure the pain and deal with it. Well the feeling's mutual, asshole." She grumbled, sipping her tea.

"You're so banal." I shook my head.

"Well he's a ba-pain in my ba-ass." She countered. "I have a wonderful and well rested weekend only to deal with his emo having ass every Monday morning is a huge turn off and it seriously kills my vibe."

"Well, what do you expect him to do about it?"

"Having some excitement and getting laid for one."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh honey. He's as open as a hentai magazine." She replied.

"Jesus Christ, Maren! This guy is your ticket to getting credits for your degree. Show him some respect."

"I highly doubt if anyone - lecturers included - even takes him seriously. Especially with how he dresses." She cringed. "His clothes look like they haven't been to a dry cleaners or even been ironed for God knows how long. His hair looks like a mop that has been overused and not washed since the day it was purchased. And I highly doubt if he has ever showered. The typical look that screams, 'Hi everyone. I'm single and a virgin'."

"What did he ever do to you to be throwing that much shade at him?"

"All I'm saying is, with all the money he earns from being a lecturer, it doesn't cost much to get a decent hair cut and have his clothes cleaned. If he can't afford it, it doesn't take that much time to get in the shower, use shampoo, conditioner, deodorant and look presentable."

"Funny you say that since it takes you hours to get ready."

Maren gasped, clutching her chest as if I attacked her. "Excuse me, Honey Bee. I am simply a woman who takes pride in her looks. How do you expect people to take me seriously if I don't at least look like I mean business?"

She wasn't exactly wrong about that. Maren had always been considered one of the best looking ladies in our department according to most people. She had that nice, voluptuous hourglass body most girls would kill to have, naturally long lashes and plumps lips that she normally painted in nude shades shades of lipstick and lip-gloss. A beautiful, dazzling smile that showed off her round cheeks and even teeth. Beautiful dark melanin skin, long curly black hair, beautiful dark eyes, and not to forget her thick Italian accent, though raspy and hoarse due to dysphonia.

But putting good looks aside, Maren was one of the most confident and outspoken people I've met since my freshman year and she doesn't take shit from anyone. She had always been a bit too forward, cocky, bitchy, but she was good to have around, and she meant well. She was basically the only friend I've had since I had always been so introverted and had trouble socialising with people. She was also older and a year ahead of me, yet she acted as though she was the youngest between the two of us.

"Hey, Bev?"

"What?"

"What are the odds of Steve having blue balls?"

I nearly choked on my latte and threw her the most appallingly disgusted look I could muster. "Maren!"

"What? It's a legitimate question."

"A question that's highly inappropriate and not our business, damnit!"

"Oh wow! Beverley LaVaughn acting as if she doesn't know what sex and blue balls is." She teased.

"I will hit you." I growled.

She chuckled at my reaction. I rolled my eyes and continued drinking my latte.

"Any plans after school today?" Maren asked stirring her tea.

"No," I leaned back in my seat. "I'm probably gonna head home and catch up with some Netflix since I have not tests and assignments. Why?"

"I was wondering if you could drive me to Queens. I have a mentoring session with Matthew today while he's doing a photoshoot for a Claire's upcoming clothing line."

"Why couldn't you ask Kevin to drive you there?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because that daft bastard is going to be vomiting excuses and I ain't having it." She scoffed. "As if he's ever useful."

I pursed my lips before taking another sip of my latte and said nothing about it. I preferred not treading on matters concerning Maren's partially dysfunctional relationship with her boyfriend without pissing her off more than she already was. Until she was ready to talk about it, I continued minding my own business.

"I have other things to worry about," she continued. "like why I chose to purse a degree in the Visual Arts instead of just sticking to working as an intern at Claire's company until I get a permanent job, save up some money and open my own studio and do freelance photography."

"Because your job and career requires it?' I answered earning a scoff from her.

"Please! I'll have you know that I've been taking pictures ever since I first held a camera when I was about six years old and had my mama teach me all she knew before I started getting mentored by Matthew. Then got into editing at thirteen. I'm practically a pro at this point." She replied with such pomposity radiating in her voice.

Her ego has no bounds, I sighed shaking my head. "That may be true, but it doesn't hurt to learn new skills."

"Piss off! You say you don't need literature since art is all about drawing and painting your imagination and shit, you hypocrite."

"That's different!" I retorted.

"It's the same and you know it." She countered.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes.

"So, you're coming with me or what?" she asked as her eyes glimmered with hope. I sighed and replied, "Fine. But you owe me."

She grinned widely, pleased by my response. "Have I ever told you that you're my favourite person, Bev?"

"Yes. Every time I do favours for you." I deadpanned, narrowing my eyes.

"Come on. You only do me favours because you love me."

"I only do you favours because you don't take 'no' for an answer and will continue to bug me until you get a 'yes' out of me."

"You definitely love me."

"Whatever."