The Aftermath Of Breaking Norms

3. "My Best Friend is a Psychic."

3. "My Best Friend is a Psychic."

*Faith Ellis*

My feet were killing me.

It was totally unfair that Taylor's prediction was true, especially after all the smug looks she kept giving me after I admitted that my soles were hurting. She had played it safe with silver wedged shoes to go with her pink dress that had embellished silver belt. She wore matching bangles and studs, along with a crystal comb to keep her hair in place at the front while leaving it open from behind.

Needless to say, she turned quite a few heads and was currently shamelessly flirting with a blond guy I'd seen around school before. I knew she couldn't tame her wild streak for long, but if I confronted her about it,  she'd argue that she was merely taking a break from the background scene for the night.

An unintentional chuckle escaped my lips at my friend's behavior as I stood in the restroom, facing the large mirror. My reflection showed that my make up was intact, not that I expected the dark eye shadow to fade away so soon. All I needed was to reapply a fresh layer of the bright red lipstick I was wearing and I would be good to go.

However, going back outside would be a chore. I was never a master at hiding my emotions and thus, I was pretty sure that at least half the people outside knew of my predicament. I was practically limping, after all. Also, since there were a lot of kids from school as well, it would probably give rise to rumors I would rather avoid, especially after all the buzzing that had begun after I spoke to Dwayne Bryant the other day.

I took a couple deep breaths, debating whether or not I should stay here for a while more. The restroom at this hotel was way too fancy to be normal. It even had a blue velvet couch near the entrance. But I didn't want to face any questions from anyone who might walk in, so I decided to leave.

I headed towards the direction of the hall where the party was being held, hoping that I was taking the right turns. My sense of direction was pretty bad and, with this being an unknown place, I had all the more reason to worry. But relief rushed through me as I recognized a sign that pointed me in the correct direction.

I turned a corner, only to bump into a hard chest.

If the impact hadn't hurt my feet even more as they wobbled, I might have laughed at the cliched nature of the moment. Although, in my defense, I was looking at the signboard because it seemed to be studded with Swarovski stones on the side.

"I'm so sorry," I began to say as I met the eyes of the hot not-so-stranger. He wore a black blazer over a white button-up shirt, even the simple attire making him look pretty good.

I was sure I was dreaming. How could Taylor be right, yet again?

Oh, My God. My best friend is a psychic.

No, you idiot, the sensible part of me intervened my crazy thought. I couldn't have been dreaming because I did hit my head against, what was rumored around school to be, a six pack.

"Are you going to stop ogling anytime soon?"

God, I wanted to tear away that stupid smirk from that strong-jawed face. Who even says 'ogling' anymore? And nobody had the right to look that good while saying it.

"I wasn't ogling," I snapped and proceeded to move away from him, but he shifted his place, coming to stand right in front of me. "What?"

"You were ogling," he said. "Admit it."

"I wasn't," I said. "And I don't have the time to argue with you." I stepped away from him again and proceeded to move past him, except this time, he clutched my hand in a flash.

"Faith Ellis," he drawled out, his gaze scanning me head to toe. Yes, Dwayne freaking Bryant was checking me out.

In a sudden movement, I stamped on his foot. His cry of pain filled me with incomparable glee. Dwayne Bryant apparently could bring out the hidden sadist in me.

I walked past him hurriedly, but a moment later I knew he was right behind me. I couldn't even run because of the pain in my feet and I was approaching the ballroom.

I was only a few feet from the door when I heard Dwayne's voice. "You bitch!" He sounded quite close as well.

I didn't dare glance behind. Instead, I decided to try my luck and attempted to run forward.

It was easily the single most regretful thing I had done all night.

I had just reached the double doors when I felt Dwayne's hand reaching out for me. I continued stumbling forward, but still thrust my elbow behind in hopes of injuring him and thus slowing him down.

It was then that I lost balance for a moment, leaving me panicked. A waiter was passing by the area, but he couldn't get away fast enough to prevent himself from my outstretched hand as I fell down to the ground. Dwayne - that asshole - had attempted to stop my fall, but too late for me to be grateful. His arm around my waist, he came down along with me, falling right on top of me. To top it off, the waiter had lost balance of his tray and the drinks he was carrying had tipped over and fallen over us. Well, it fell on Dwayne's blazer and my hair and face.

"Get off me!" My voice resonated around the room, making me realize in alarm that the entire ballroom had gone silent.

Dwayne looked dazed as he looked down at me, both his hands on either side of me. I hesitated to react due to the pairs of eyes that were undoubtedly focused on us. But Dwayne wasn't budging, even though I was squirming beneath him.

Oh, screw it. I mustered up all my strength before placing my hand below his shoulders and applied as much force as I could to push him off.

He must have made an effort to move as well. There was no way I could have pushed the guy onto the ground on my own. Dwayne was heavy. I would know.

I quickly got up and, avoiding the eyes of the crowd, headed back towards the bathrooms. To my utter irritation, Dwayne was beside me a few moments later.

"What?!" I snapped.

"You stamped my foot." He pulled me to a stop, grip strong on my wrist. "Then you dropped drinks all over me."

"That wasn't me," I countered, anger rising inside of me. "And I never asked you to come behind me. It was all your stupid fault."

He was glaring at me but his grip on my wrist loosened just long enough for me to make an escape. He wasn't about to let go of me as easily, apparently. This time, though, I was prepared.

I clenched my fist as Dwayne's hand curled around my shoulder and whirled me around. My hand was already moving towards his face, just as someone else screamed out my name. Too late. My fist hit Dwayne's cheek. Hard.

"Faith!" The voice called out again. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was.

I turned to Vaughn - my friend and my ex-boyfriend. "I . . " I began breathlessly, but then stopped. I didn't need to justify myself. Not to Vaughn. Not to anybody. Not even to Taylor who was standing beside Vaughn looking at me with an astonished expression.

"What the hell?!" Dwayne's incredulous voice cried out. "Are you fucking insane?"

I didn't reply, backing away and turning around to head towards the washroom again. My fist hurt from punching him and, even though Dwayne's face had turned red, I would hardly have been able to hurt him if I didn't have the element of surprise on my side.

"Where did you learn to hit like that?" Dwayne yelled out.

That caused me to smirk. Dwayne may be stronger, but I had tactic. It was key during a fight, I had learnt.

"She knows karate," Vaughn said, just before I turned the corner and heard Dwayne's pained groan.

Victory!

~

Shoutout to all the people who uncannily seem to read your mind.

Thoughts?  x

(Check out Taylor's outfit in the external link.)