Olivia [h.s]

7.

I awkwardly stand in the foyer, impatiently shuffling my feet from side to side as I wait for Kayla to appear. It should be any second now, I tell myself, giving short smiles to young teens leaving the arena. 

I pull my phone out of my bag and read the time. It's been twenty minutes. Where the hell is Kayla? 

The meet and greet has already started; girls and boys are congregating around what appears to be the entrance to backstage. Bodyguards stand in rows and velvet ropes group the people as if they were cattle. 

After another five minutes of uncomfortable lingering, I put my phone back into my bag and decide to join the line-up without Kayla. I am pissed off that she has seemingly ditched me, but remember the sweet gesture she did by getting me a backstage pass. 

I keep turning my head around; eyes scanning for a tall tattooed creep and my sassy best friend. I don't catch a glimpse of her anywhere and my stomach sinks as thoughts flood into my brain. What if she has left the arena without me? What if she's in trouble? I contemplate leaving the queue to go and find my best friend, but I eventually decide against running after Kayla. I have been running after her my entire life. 

In 7th grade Kayla would prance around the school halls, miss queen bee. She assigned roles to all of her friends and we would folly around her like dogs. I got the duty of topping up her perfume when she felt the smell was fading and she needed more. 

In 9th grade, Kayla started dating the boy that I had a crush on; Matt Quinlan. He was tall and lanky with plumes of golden hair that fell before his blazing blue eyes. Kayla knew that I liked him so she started dating him, just because she knew she could. 

And now, this is another one of Kayla's little stints. Expecting me to chase her around as she struts about the stadium with her new conquest on her arm. I shudder, doubting her care for me as I shuffle towards a tall bodyguard wearing all black. The line went down quickly. 

''Pass?'' the bouncer states, holding his hand out. 

I mentally scold myself for not pulling my pass out ready before I entered the line. I smile politely and reach into my bag. My hand desperately claws into the small pocket on the inside of the bag where I slipped the backstage pass into. I can't feel it. I turn my head and look down into my bag, frantically sliding my hand left and right inside to see if it had slipped out. I feel my face pull into a into confusion and I look insane as I put another hand into the bag and feel around for the pass. The bouncer shakes his head and nods to his friend. The other bodyguard begins to walk towards me and I hold my index finger up to him.

''No no, just a minute I swear I have it somewhere'' My polite smile turns into crazy lady as I crouch down onto the floor and turn my bag upside down, shaking the contents out onto the floor. Bits of lint and paper litter the carpet of the foyer, tampons, q-tips, lipglosses, you name it. Everything that was in that bag is now allover the floor. I scan my hands over the contents, looking like a witch that is about to perform divination on the items scattered on the carpet. I shake my head in disbelief. It's not there. It's not fucking there. Why is it not there??

''Sorry lady, you're holding the line up'' I look up to the disapproving bouncer and he gives me a sympathetic head shake. I can tell he thinks I belong in a padded cell as he lifts me up by the arms and gestures for me to leave. I quickly bend down and pick up the contents of my bag; too confused to care about the bits of paper and straw wrappers I left behind. 

It hits me. My knees feel weak and I turn back around towards the entrance. I angrily yank my phone out of my bag and dial the number of the two-faced snake.