Girls With Luv

SIX April

The cafe sends me off to my car with a happy vibe, like always, and I grin at Spencer before checking my mirrors and putting on my seatbelt. Spence had cracked a stupid joke about her adding black salt to her boss's cappuccino and somehow, it seems funny minutes after listening to it. I can imagine Vanessa spitting it out and ruining a freshly printed marketing strategy. I swear Spencer can be very creatively cruel behind someone's back. But the woman can't go head-on in a battlefield because of her sheer fear of hurting someone's feelings. I don't think I've seen her destroy someone more than twice, and those two incidents involved misogynistic blind dates set up by her mom and frankly, they had it coming. From what she told us, Spencer unloaded her bowl of red chilli sauce on one of them "by mistake" and completely demolished the fake brightness of his tuxedo.

My mind gets whiplash when I think about the poor fabric that had to go to spicy hell because of its disappointing owner. Tch tch.

It takes me fifteen minutes to drive to my store. It's not huge per se, but I'm kinda proud of it. My store is my first child and I plan to see it grow into a huge fashion line that hits the charts someday. Yes yes, it's an aspiration I am currently working towards and I know I have a long way to go but hey, it feels good to be intrinsically driven because of it. My designs have finally made it to the covers of a local fashion magazine and I couldn't be more excited to see us on those glossy pages. As a kid, I used to cut out pictures of gorgeous dresses from that filth of gloss, paste it on a wall in my room and try to imagine how I would create a similar design differently. It was a good exercise and helped me get inspired easily. Once, I stared at the shadow of a street light pattern for twenty-five minutes straight and went back home to create a crop top out of that design. If I hunt through my wardrobe, I will probably find that piece of clothing somewhere buried inside.

As I park my car in front of the store, my phone starts ringing. I grin widely when I read the caller ID. It's Davis. I pull the handbrake and answer the call.

"Hello, brother! Long time, no see."

"Hello to you too, squirt."

"Hey, don't call me that. I'm not that short. You're the one who is freakishly tall."

"For the Lilliputians, Gulliver was freakishly tall because they were freakishly small."

"You haven't even read that book..."

"No, but you never shut up about how idiotic it is. I managed to figure out the whole thing in tit-bits, thanks to your incessant groans." Davis laughs at the memory and I roll my eyes. I still believe that Gulliver's Travels is irritating.

"Whatever. What's up? Is your tour over?" Davis works in a company that deals with software stuff that is beyond my level of comprehension. I've never tried to delve deeper into the workings simply because I don't understand that language but I know that he enjoys doing what he does, which is more than enough for me. He was always a computer geek and always hid behind screens when trigonometry wasn't at his beck and call. I have no idea why and how he devoured the crap that was sine theta, cos theta blah blah blah. Shudder.

"Yes, I met up with some clients and all seems well and good to go. I talked to mom last night and she told me you have some big photoshoot today...?"

"Yeup, had it today. It was great! You might end up seeing my face in a fashion magazine." I flip my hair to one side as I say this, fully aware of the fact that people are passing by.

"That's awesome! I'm so proud of you, Pringles."

"Hehe, thanks. Will you ever run out of these weird words you use to address me?"

"Nope. Why would I? They all suit you so well."

"I can hear the cheeky smirk on your face. Drop it."