The Test

Chapter One

"Brush out that rats nest of yours, I don't wanna be seen with it in public."

Ignoring her, I run the brush through my tangled, long, brown hair until it's smooth again.

"Great, now put on some real clothes?" She asks.

"What's wrong with a hoodie and sweats?" I ask in reply, smirking.

"Oh please, no one sane would be caught dead wearing that."

"Why do I put up with you." I mumble more to myself than to her.

"'Cause you love me, that's why," she replies with a wink. And it's true. We've been best friends since we met one day at the park when we were four years old and realized we were neighbors. Of course, she had to move in grade six, but we've stayed close.

"Hard to argue with that," I tell her, smiling.

She smiles back. "Oh hey, I need to use your washroom before I go."

"Alright, but you gotta go downstairs, this one up here's being remodeled."

"If you're not down there in five minutes I'm leaving without you," she informs me as she leaves my room and shuts the door.

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I walk down the stairs exactly six minutes later wearing a plain pink t-shirt and my favourite jeans.

"You're late."

"Sue me," I reply, tossing on my dark brown leather jacket, followed by my beige scarf.

"At least you're attempting accessories."

I roll my eyes at her, throw on my boots, grab my keys and head out the door.

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"Ahhh, I'm so excited!" Genevieve squeals when I finally find a parking space.

"Right, 'cause it's not like we've been to the mall ten thousand times before or anything," I reply, sarcastically.

"Oh, lighten up, Brenda. Anyways, what store do we stop at first? My Aunt gave me one hundred dollars. How sweet, isn't it? I mean, I guess if I was her I would have, what with my date and all, but o-m-g what colour goes with my eyes? I can't-"

"Genevieve!" I cut her off. "Calm down, it's going to go fine."

"I didn't say I was nervous," she mumbles.

"You didn't need to. Now come on, there's that cute little boutique we could check out."

"Okay, yeah. Sure. Okay."

After making our way halfway through the mall, we finally turn left down a hallway and find the boutique nestled in the back corner.

"How are you ladies doing today?" A worker asks us with a smile as we walk in. She's of an average height, and Asian. Her black hair is tightly wrapped in a bun, sitting almost on the top of her head. Her makeup makes a bold statement on her face, and I can't say it looks bad.

"Fine, thanks. And yourself?" I ask back.

But instead of replying, all the lady does is smile, turn around and walk into the back room.

"Well... She was weird." Genevieve tells me. "And rude."

We walk to the far right corner and find a rack with maybe 15 different dresses on it, give or take a few. A different lady walks out of the back room two minutes later, this one blonde with her hair straight down to her shoulders. Her light green eyes are complemented by her high, ivory coloured cheekbones, and I must admit I'm immediately slightly ashamed of how I look while in her presence. It's a weird thought.

"Can I help you ladies find anything?"

"Nah, I think we're good. Hey, you're really pretty," Genevieve says to her. I watch as her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink.

"Why, thanks you, uhm, you're really pretty yourself," she replies, trying to hide her blushing.

"Don't I know it," Genevieve says with a hint of sass. "Oh, actually, do you know where that oher lady that works here is? That Asian one? My friend here was trying to be polite, but then she just turned her back and walked away! I mean how rude! I'd like to talk with her if you don't mind -"

"No!" I yell, regretting it after. The store's awkwardly quiet. I'm pretty sure people in the hall must have heard me. "I mean, uh, no, no it's fine, she must be busy or something, I-"

"Nuh uh, I definitely want to tell her how she-"

"You can't! Do you want me to never come in this store again?"

"If it means speaking my mind, then sure."

I'm just about to say something else to convince her not to yell at the Asian lady, when we hear the blonde worker speak again.

"Uhm, did you two see this worker today? The one you're talking about?" She asks, timidly.

"Duh, why?" Genevieve asks back.

"Because we don't have an uh.. 'Asian' lady working today." She looks uncomfortable labeling someone as Asian in front of us. Probably because she's not sure if Genevieve is Asian. Lots of people mistake her ethnicity, which is actually half Filipino, half French. "There's Michelle but she's like, only a cashier, I think. She wouldn't be near the front. Besides, she doesn't have a shift today."

"Then who the hell welcomed us in." Genevieve says as more of a statement than a question.

"I have no idea. I'm thinking someone just wanted to do it for kicks."

"Well she was like, old. Like 30 or 35 or something," my friend starts. "Why would some older lady do that. Whatever, it's weird."

"Okay, well, call me if you need anything." The worker says to us, clearly not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, wait! I want to try on this dress! And this one! And this one! Oh, and do you have this in a smaller size?" Genevieve asks her, picking up seven dresses in the process.

"Let's see what we have in the back," the blonde lady suggests for the sizes.

"Oh the back!" Exclaims Genevieve. "That's where the Asian lady went!"

"Uhm, okay, I can see if she's back there I guess... Anything else?"

"Nope that's it."

"Okay, I'll be back in two secs, hang tight."