Upper Class Love (a Justin Bieber love story novella)

Chapter Seven

            Justin started his little greetings and then started to sing “Baby.” I laughed out loud when he started to rap the Ludicris part.

            But then I realized something. “Maura,” I whispered, leaning into her ear. “MAURA!”

            “AGH!” She yelped, jumping in her seat. “WHAT?!”

            “I FORGOT TO GO TO THE RESTROOM!”

            Her face dropped. “WOW, OKAY, EPIC FAIL. JUST GO NOW!”

            I frowned, wanting her to come with me, but she was too absorbed in the song. Gag.

            Pushing my way through the seats, I received a lot of scowls. After about ignoring the first five, I couldn’t hold it in much longer. I was simply shoving my way past some blondie that was two inches shorter than me, and I received a very hard scowl.

            “WHAT?! WHAT DID I DO?!” I screamed, holding her by the collar.

            Her face immediately changed to a face of pleading. “Nothing! I’m-I’m sorry!”

            The chick kept blubbering and eventually I just rolled my eyes and left her drop.

            Continuing on, whoever else looked me in the eye with a scowl on their face received me holding onto their collar and putting my You really want to piss me off? face on.

            I finally made it to restroom to discover that it was completely empty. Geez, am I the only one who doesn’t like Justin Bieber enough to take a waz? I mean, yeah, we kissed and all. But just ‘cus he touched my lips don’t mean he became a better singer. I smirked as I started to wash my hands, singing very loudly.

            “Girls, just wanna have f-un, ohh, girls, just wanna have funnn!” I got really into it, dancing while I lathered the pink soap on my hands.

            “Nice voice,” a voice commented.

            I squealed and whipped around to where the voice was coming from. A girl who looked stereotypical Goth—her hair was blue-black, her black eyeliner very heavy, red lipstick, all black clothing—waved her fingers her me. “Thanks,” I spat out.

            Well, this was awkward.

            “You don’t have Bieber Fever, right?” She asked, twirling her crimped hair with her bright red nails.

            “What makes you think that?” I answered with a question, returning to washing my hands. The skin on my fingers was starting to wrinkle already.

            “Well, all of the other girls in the arena would rather wet themselves then miss a second of that ‘Piece from Heaven.’”

            “Yeah, you’re right,” I dramatically sighed, putting one wet hand on my forehead, the other under a super-powerful hand drier.

            She smirked. “What’s your name, kid?”

            “Uh, I don’t think I’m that much of a kid…”

            She shrugged. “You look younger than me, which makes you a kid.

            “I don’t think that’s atomically correct, but whatever.” I returned the shrug. “I’m Molly,” Like I’d give my name to some creepy chick in a public restroom that I met at a Justin Bieber concert.

            “Cool, I’m Edith,”

            “Seriously?” I asked, patting my hands together. “Sounds too... Convenient.” I scrunched my nose like I smelled something distasteful… Like Justin’s song One Time.

            “Yeah, you’re right. I changed my name a few years back. Who could blame me? I can’t believe my mother named me… Agnus!”

            “I used to have a cousin named Agnus.” I accused, putting my hands on my hips.

            “Used too?”

            “She died in a car crash. Some idiot reached for her cell phone and was speeding. It was a few hours before her eighteenth birthday…” I looked at my shoes. That was back in third grade. I can tell this story without bawling now.

            “Oh… I’m so sorry…” Edith touched my arm below the shoulder.

            My eyes bugged out and I immediately brushed her off. “Nonono, don’t touch me. I’m fine, really!”

            She whipped back her pale arm and stared at me, also bug-eyed, like I was crazy. “Yeah, okay, uh, I’m gonna go pee…”

            “Okay, you do that; I’m gonna go break my ear drums…”

            “You do that,” She repeated while I opened the door.

            That was quite a strange way to kill time.

~~~

“WAIT, WHERE WERE YOU?” Maura screamed over more cheering fans.

            “MARRY ME!”

            “I LOVE YOU JUSTIN!”

            “YOU’RE SO HOT!”

            “I WANT YOUR BABIES!”

            Wow… These people have no shame. “I HAD TO GO PEE!” I replied for the fourth time.

            Someone behind me tapped my shoulder. “YES?”

            “Can you please quiet down? I don’t want my daughter to hear you.” A woman, maybe in her thirties, requested, nudging her maybe seven-year-old daughter.

            I could barely hear her, but I could make out “quiet” “don’t want” and “hear.” “WHAT, YOU’RE DAUGHTER DOESN’T KNOW WHAT PEEING IS?”

            “No, nono, uh, I’m just asking if you can not say that so loud. You know how fragile young minds can be, don’t you?”

            I turned to the girl. She had “I <3 JB” written in pink paint on her cheek, was wearing a purple dress, and had a Justin Bieber dog tag necklace. “IF SHE WAS SO FRAGILE, SHE WOULDN’T BE LISTENING TO THIS SH—”

            “Whoaa! Okay, heh heh, forget I said anything!” She weakly smiled, her eyebrows furrowing together.

            My God the nerve of some people.