Straighter than Parallel Parking

≈ t w e l v e ≈

In her opinion, she feels like speaking the truth is better than trying to feign what she feels, but, then again, that didn't mean she couldn't keep her mouth shut once in a while.

"I had a bad day," Tiffany confesses, and Janice is so caught off guard that she trips twice before catching herself. "I'm a candid person, I say things as I feel they are, and I know that might not be so appealing, but that's just how I am. I'm a grouch and I know that. I won't change, either. But that doesn't mean it wasn't uncalled for to be so rude, so I'm sorry."

Janice is so bewildered, she's sure her jaw is on the floor, collecting dust and chewed gum. She hadn't expected Tiffany to open up. Hell, she wasn't sure if Tiffany was going to say anything remotely nice back.

This wasn't in her manual of stereotypes, instructions up in the wind. Is there every really a guide to these type of situations? 

"It's not mostly your fault," Janice scratched the back of her head. "I've been real crappy in trying to open up to you more and you didn't have enough to work with. While we're at it, I feel like I've been pretty nervous, so my nerves have been skyrocketing." 

And this isn't quite untrue. Janice had overanalyzed a few comments of Tiffany's and automatically placed her with girls that she'd read about in stories or met, and that was error on her part. Though you can't really blame Janice; the poor girl hasn't had much to work with, either. 

She has a flawed judgement, and until proven wrong, she sticks to it, so Tiffany was seriously throwing a curveball Janice hadn't been ready to catch. 

After swallowing a couple times, blinking to erase any doubt that she's only presently dreaming, she follows up to say, "I-I don't care if you're blunt. There's just certain way to say it. And if it's offensive, then just don't say anything at all, I guess. Though, I, uh, appreciate your, um, honesty. Thanks for, uh, clearing that up."

Tiffany nods, crossing her arms around her midsection. "As long as you stop giving me dirty looks from the corner of your eye every time you look my way, that would be great. I get enough of those already."

Janice feels a pang of empathy at that statement. "Deal. Does that mean we're on truce?"

Janice doesn't know who's more surprised, her or Tiffany, when Tiffany smiles (not the artificial one plastered on before) and nods. But it doesn't matter who is, other than she'd gotten at least one more person to like her.

Now another struggle of people to get through without punching.

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THE SMALL GROUP IS STANDING AROUND A CAR, one that Janice doesn't familiarize with in the dark, when the duo make their way over to them. The first sight she catches is Brielle's infamous brown ponytail, which whips behind her as she runs over to Janice and Tiffany.

"You guys finally made it! I was wondering where you disappeared off to," Brielle told Janice, "now pick a car to get into. We're all heading to this shop a couple streets from here. The other's are already there, so we should be going soon."

Brielle turns around at the sound of a cough, before her bright sapphire eyes snap back to Janice's chestnut. "Oh! I forgot to introduce you. This is Moira and Reneé, by the way. Moira and Reneé, this is Janice, the one I've been telling you about."

Moira, Janice believes, steps up front, a warm smile already present on her face. Janice is instantly drawn to her warm nature, adoring her soft features. "As Bri said, I'm Moira. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Janice."

Moira has, Janice notices, at least fifty different shades of blonde in her hair, along with a soft pink shirt that brought out the golden accents in it.