2. "I'd Rather Do Algebra for the Rest of my Life."
*Faith Ellis*
"He actually apologized?" I asked my best friend in shock. "For real?"
"Uh-uh." Taylor nodded. "He was really sweet about it too. I mean, it was partly my fault as well, but he was genuine about the apology. And it helps that he is so hotI can't believe you sat onhis lap. Perfect opportunity for a little making o-" I can't believe you sat onhis lap. Perfect opportunity for a little making o-" I slapped her arm and she winced. "What was that for?"
"For still obsessing over that," I told her, annoyed. "There is nothing great about sitting on a guy's lap, alright?"
"But this is Dwayne Bryant we're talking about, Faith," Taylor said. "I don't think I've ever seen him so much as touch a girl before."
"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean he's not doing it." I stood up from the bed. "I'm going to get some water and you try not to get lost in disgusting fantasies."
"What disgusting fantasies?" she asked, pulling an innocent expression on her face.
I chuckled as I walked out of the room. Taylor was easily the most perverted person I knew. I had been friends with her for about five years. I had friends before Taylor, who I was still close with, but Taylor and I had a different connection.
She'd entered my life at a point when I was slowly succumbing to peer pressure, doing things out of my comfort zone and making a complete fool of myself.
I had been paired with Taylor for an English assignment and I annoyed her out of her mind. Taylor was a straight-A student while I had the potential for it. Except I had chosen to act dumb and make her do all the work. Faking ignorance wasn't easy, especially since I knew exactly how to do the work. Taylor saw right through me.
It had taken her a week of lecturing and another month of doing every single thing humanly possible to make me realize that being myself was the best thing I could ever be. But I still needed to figure out what 'being myself' exactly meant. It turned out that Taylor's mom was a children's psychologist and that was the reason Taylor and her brother had their life sorted out.
I wasn't sure I needed guidance from a psychologist, but Mrs. Brooks knew exactly how to help me. It wasn't long before Taylor and I had become the best of friends and life had improved considerably.
I left the kitchen, about to head back upstairs when I heard my mother call out my name. I turned around to see her walk out of the room. She was dressed in a blue wrap dress with light make-up on her lean face. Her brown hair, a few shades lighter than mine, was tied into a bun.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Pre-birthday dinner with the mayor's family," she answered. "You know the official bash is tomorrow. Don't make any other plans."
"Alright," I said. "See you later." I sent her a wave and headed back to my room.
This was normal for my parents. With their active participation in the city council, they were close friends of the mayor. Both of them were known figures in the city too. My father was considered one of the best architects around while my mother had created a name for herself as a class interior designer. I could only hope to become as successful as them in life.
I entered my room and threw one of the bottles at Taylor. She caught it swiftly, beaming.
"How's the writing going?" I asked her, returning to the revolving chair near my study table.
"It's getting somewhere," Taylor answered, rolling her eyes. "I keep editing and re-editing every time I read through it. So I'm not proceeding any further."
"And is the job at the library helping?" I questioned.
Taylor nodded. "They've got an amazing collection there. And, it's cool to observe people when they're alone."
"Okay, Edward Cullen."
She threw a pencil at me. "How many times do we have to talk about this? You need to stop believing the internet trend and actually read the book."
"Why do you stare at people again?"
Taylor rolled her eyes. "I don't stare. People often do things out of habit. Sometimes they don't even realize it. I observe them."
"As long as you're enjoying yourself."
"Usually, I do," Taylor said. "But there is this guy who comes by to wait for his girlfriend and they spend the rest of the time making out in a corner." She shuddered, before turning back to her Psychology homework.
I examined her as she did. Taylor was characterized by her golden blonde hair that were almost always in their natural curls. She was much shorter than I was but could draw attention whenever she wanted to with her wild nature. Except, since the beginning of the semester, she had made writing her top priority. Apparently, the epiphany had struck on a late night that finishing a book would be best way to welcome adulthood.
At least, she had her life sorted out.
I turned back to my own schoolwork, one I happened to like. I was studying Anatomy this year, and for this particular assignment, I had to analyse the human body structure. The artist in me was fascinated by the image - the curves, the lines, the perfect structure. I preferred to be challenged and excited with art, but there wasn't much to be expected from homework.
In fact, I'd shoved aside my Algebra book. That one had been waiting for my attention for hours now.
"Faith?" Taylor broke the silence after a while.
"Hm?"
"You're going for the party tomorrow, right?"
Looking up from the book, I nodded. "It's not like I have a choice."
"On the bright side," Taylor said, "Most people from school are going to be there, so it won't be a completely dull night."
"Guess I should look forward to it then."
"And pick your outfit?" she suggested.
I grinned. "Sure. I've got a bunch of new dresses I wanted to try out."
It had been several weeks since I'd dressed up properly - something I particularly enjoyed. Fashion was akin to art for me. It meant dealing with layers, colors, comparatives, and, in a way, creating beauty. More importantly, though, it was something I could say was unique to me.
As I headed towards my closet, Taylor mused, "What's the queen got up her sleeve, this time?"
I laughed. I liked to make an impression with what I wore, while Taylor enjoyed teasing me about it. She was the kind of person who could make her presence known dressed in the drabbest PJs. I needed the ammo.
I moved the clothes around until I found what I was looking for. Pulling the hangar with the dress out of the rack, I turned around and held it on display for Taylor.
She raised an eyebrow. "Is that appropriate for a community event?"
"Why not?" I frowned. "Don't you like it?"
"It's gorgeous," she admitted. "But maybe it's more suited for something that half the city isn't attending."
"If that's what you think," I said with a wide smile. "Then, this is perfect."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "Why do I even bother with you?"
"A little enthusiasm wouldn't hurt, you know?"
Taylor chuckled. "I do like the dress. Even though you already have enough lace in your wardrobe."
"Too much lace never hurts," I replied and then turned to look at the garment once again. It was a black body-hugging full-sleeved dress that would reach just above my knee, draped entirely with lace, with an open back and a boat neckline. "And," I added after I was done admiring the work on the fabric. "I got matching shoes to go with them."
I peeked around the closet until I found what I was looking for. Admittedly, I had gotten lucky with finding the sling-back lace pumps that I was currently holding up to show Taylor. A change came over her face, an expression of approval.
"They're perfect, aren't they?" I asked.
She nodded. "Suits you." I grinned at that, but she went on. "I don't think you'll survive the night in those, though. When was the last time you wore heels that high?"
"It's been a while," I admitted.
Taylor looked amused. "And yet you're confident about your outfit."
"Of course I am," I said indignantly. I knew I was making a mistake with letting my annoyance show. Taylor loved nothing more than sparking my temper and I knew that she was enjoying herself right now. She wasn't even making an effort to hide her glee.
"Good luck, then," she chimed. "Let's hope your feet don't die tomorrow."
"Some friend you are," I muttered, turning around to return the shoes back to their place.
Taylor only snickered. "I think it'll look good on you, Faith. And also make you look like you're thirty in all that black."
"You're so extra," I retorted. "Still, I'll probably throw in a red clutch for a bit of color and to not look thirty, as you say."
Taylor raised her left eyebrow, something I still couldn't do and which frustrated me to no end. If I could raise my right brow, why wasn't the left one cooperating? "Did you just agree with my suggestion, Faith? What has the world come to?"
"No need to be so dramatic, Tay," I responded with a small smile. "I simply didn't want to take that risk, especially in front of everyone at school." To my surprise, an odd grin spread across Taylor's lips at my words. "What?" I questioned.
She leaned a little forward, as if telling me a secret. "What if he's there? Dwayne Bryant?"
I stared at her blankly, my jaw dropping down a bit. "Seriously?" I demanded. "I thought you had something exciting to tell me." Taylor looked as disappointed as I felt, except for another reason. "We see him at school anyway," I reminded her, softening my tone. "And we've known him for years. Why are you getting so obsessed with him now?"
"Because," she explained with renewed fervor. "I'm bored and I want gossip and, frankly, I think as my best friend, you need to provide me with the drama I need."
She was really trying my patience now. "And you think me associating myself with that brat is going to bring you your much-needed drama."
Taylor beamed. "Now you're catching on."
It took everything in me not to throw my pencil at her. Instead, I turned around, ignoring her taunts. "I'd rather do Algebra for the rest of my life."
~
This story will be in dual perspective. Hope you've enjoyed thus far x