After Kissing

9.

Stella grinned genuinely and held out two lipsticks: "Only got these here. Soft pink or passion red?"

"Pink." I answered immediately and she handed it over. I looked down at it, bewildered once more. "Why are you helping me?"

"And why not?"

Because you hate me, but I didn't say that. "Don't know." I took it and was pleased at the beautiful soft pink color of it. Almost nude. Perfect.

"Can't I just be helpful?" Not really. 'Helpful' and 'Stella' weren't two concepts that went hand in hand. She saw I wasn't buying that and for a second looked almost hurt by it, but covered it quickly with a bored sigh. "You write better when you're not frustrated."

What? I froze before the lipstick even touched me, my pride taking the full blow. "Oh." I rolled it down again and capped it. "You don't have to worry about that."

I handed her the item trying my hardest to keep it togehter, but I really wanted to say something inappropriate. How dare she to come all friendly for pity? I should have known.

Stella looked down at the lipstick in her hand, as if she couldn't believe I refused her help. I couldn't believe I'd accepted it at all. This was Stella. Too perfect for anyone. The one that had one snippy comment for everyone and especially for me. Now not only she felt entitled to correct my ideas and my writing, but my personal life as well.

"I was just trying to help." her voice was collected once more. What was I? Her charity case? Her doll? We didn't have girly moments together and we never spoke more than needed. I now remembered exactly why.

"I don't need your help."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine." her slender fingers closed around the lipstick and she kept everything back in her pursed, going back to act all stuck up and detached. "Suit yourself then. Like I care."

I knew she didn't, and I didn't care that she didn't; but hearing it wasn't pleasant and I turned to the mirror as she exited the restroom without another word.

What a nerve.

Sometimes I felt like there was something else scratching that perfectly collected surface, immaculate nails, perfect writing and always professional... but if she wasn't being picky with me, she barely interacts at all. Stella never comes to have drinks with the rest of the co-worker or ever speaks about herself. The only thing I knew was that she was wealthy enough to afford high brands and a beautiful Blue Mercedes. And that she was engaged. Or at least she had the ring.

She was confusing, and cold and now had left me all more anxious before the date. I glared myself in the mirror. Was I boring? I fixed my hair, it did look better down. And the makeup? It was simple, not 'boring'.

I was fine. Cute, I reassured myself, banishing Stella from my mind. Her cunningness was the last thing I needed at the moment.

I knew what a bad date was like now. I knew that option was possible.

It won't happen again. This time it would go well.

........................................

"Hailey?"

Finally.

I looked up from the coffee I'd ordered myself at the bar while I waited and was shocked by the person standing before me. I was expecting Cameron, a twenty six year old computer technician. But instead there stood a man that had little to nothing to do with the picture in his app profile.