I've never met a problem a proper cupcake couldn't fix. - Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet
I stood in front of my full-length mirror that hung on the back of my door. I held two different outfits in front of myself. One was a plain pair of skinny jeans with a blue V-neck T-shirt; the other was a pair of flowered shorts and a plain pink crew neck T-shirt. For the past fifteen minutes I had been standing there trying to decide what outfit I would wear on my day out with Xana. We had decided to go to the mall and get a mani-pedi, then get our hair highlighted.
When going out with Xana the number one rule is: dress to impress, but don't dress better than me. Going to prom or homecoming with Xana is always difficult; because she'd insist on coming with me dress shopping she says her sense for the "perfect dress" was much better than mine. I always ended up getting my second pick. Why? Well, she'd ridicule my first pick, and say it was ugly. But then she'd get a dress similar to it. It's just something she's insecure about, so I don't argue with her. What's a couple of dresses? It's not like they were actually hideous or anything.
I decided on the second outfit and ran downstairs, grabbing a pair of flat ballet slippers. I yelled goodbye to Luke and my dad, and ran down the sidewalk. Living in a small town didn't push my parents to buy me a car, so I was left getting rides from friends, riding the bus, or walking everywhere. Since the mall was ten miles away and Xana wasn't one to pick me up and drive me anywhere, I was left taking the bus. Now don't hate on Xana for not coming to pick me up, her parents were really strict about her driving, and she actually didn't even know how to drive. Her parents had to drive her everywhere, since I didn't like her parents I decided to take the bus instead.
Twenty-minutes later I was walking into the mall. I was supposed to meet Xana at the hair and nail spa. She had made us appointments so there would be no need to wait for an opening. I walked past the food court, and the greasy smell of all the restaurants filled my nose. I felt my stomach grumble, but ignored it. Only eating a granola bar this morning for breakfast was not satisfying enough for my stomach. Xana decided that we should try a crash diet, where we would only be eating salad, bran, granola, vegetables and chicken that is unseasoned. It is easy to say that I was always hungry, but it was a healthier way to live.
"Aislinn! You were almost late," Xana complained as I made my way over to her at the spa.
"Sorry," I mumbled looking at my watch. We still had ten minutes to wait until we would begin our pampering, but Xana always needed something to complain about.
"It's alright, at least you weren't late," she sighed overdramatically.
"Okay," I mumbled, and sat down next to her, and flipped through an old issue of People magazine.
"Are you ready?" said a woman, who had a thick foreign accent and looked to be from some country in Europe, Greece or maybe Italy.
"Yep." We put down our magazines and followed the woman through a door to where desks were set up, and a woman sat at each one, with a rack of nail polishes hung behind them.
"So anyways, Nick and me are officially over," Xana sighed as we sat in chair, foil in our hair waiting for the hairdresser to come back and remove it.
"That's too bad; you guys were so cute together!" I sympathized.
"Yeah, I really thought we were meant to be, but in all honesty you wouldn't believe how he was in bed!"
"Spare me the details, please."
"Sorry, forgot you were a Disney Princess," she rolled her eyes.
"Yep, thanks for remembering," I gave her a small smile.
"You really should stop acting like you're five, Ais," she began lecturing, "You're seventeen! I mean you have hormones, you had a Sex Ed class, you know all this type of stuff, and you probably have feelings-"
"Xana, really, don't talk about that stuff here," I moaned.
"You never want to talk about that "stuff" anywhere. You really are super innocent. I doubt it's a turn on for guys."
"Why would I want to turn guys on? Wouldn't I want to have some self-respect?" I asked, temper rising.
"I have plenty of self-respect," she flipped her a piece of hair over her shoulder, "sleeping with guys is not a sign of no self-respect."
"Really? So you'd respect any other girl who's slept with as many guys as you? You wouldn't consider her a slut?"
"Are you calling me a slut? You're such a bitch nowadays, Aislinn," Xana said, coldly, "it's all that Crispin's doing. He's probably rubbing off on you."
"Xana! I've only known him for a day! How could he rub off on me that fast?"
"Bad influences always rub off pretty quickly," she clucked.
"Whatever," I mumbled and didn't speak to her for the rest of our time at the salon.
When it was finally time to go, I gave Xana a small wave and left the salon in the direction of the cupcake shop that lay on the first floor of the mall. My hair no had light red highlights running through it, making my natural dark auburn hair look lighter. My nails were now shaped evenly with a French white tip. As I walked into the cupcake store, I bumped into someone.
"I am so sorry!" I gasped.
"It's quite alright," chuckled Crispin, steadying me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, taken aback that he was here. Did he stalk me or something? It seemed everywhere I went he was there.
"Hello to you too," he smiled, "I'm doing a bit of shopping, and was about to head in there to get a sweet. Would you like to join me?"
"I was heading in there, too, so why not?" I forced a smile.
"Why such a glum look, love?" Crispin asked leading the way into the store.
"Nothing," I said.
"Now there must be something. I do know when someone is forcing a smile," he gave me a critical stare, "come on and tell me."
"It's nothing," I mumbled, looking in the case where the cupcakes were held, "I'd like a double chocolate fudge cupcake, and a lemon poppy seed one please."
"Got it," the girl behind the counter said, and grabbed a box from the counter opening it.
"How about this, I'll buy you your cupcakes in return you tell me what's on your mind?" Crispin touched my shoulder when he asked me.
"Fine, in that case," I turned back to the case, "I'd also like a wedding cake cupcake, please."
"You little sneak," Crispin gasped, "you are really going to eat all of those?"
"Yep, I haven't had any sugar in over two months, so I'm going to gorge myself on it," I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"Good for you," he winked, "I'll take a lemon poppy seed, also, and cheesecake cupcake."
The girl nodded and got out another box and put Crispin's in there, then rang up our order, which came to twelve-dollars. Crispin paid, and we walked out of the shop.
"Now, tell me what's the matter."
"I just got into an argument with Xana," I mumbled, "It's no big deal. It's been happening a lot lately."
"But it didn't happen a lot before?" Crispin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, but it's only because I'm not really... agreeing with her on everything anymore. She doesn't understand why I don't want to be a slut like her."
"I don't understand how anyone would want to be a slut," he mumbled.
"I know right? And that guy she was with yesterday, she already broke up with him because-of different views on life."
"Ah I see. Maybe Xana needs to let lose a little bit?"
"Oh she lets lose a lot more than not," I laughed bitterly.
"Not like that," he elbowed my arm, "you know what I meant."
"I know, sorry," I laughed, "but she is really just irritating me. I don't really feel like we're friends anymore, you know?"
"I might. But were you girls ever really friends to begin with?"
That question caught me off guard. Why would he ask something like that? I mean of course Xana and I have always been friends; just now we're just kind of like too different to be friends. Maybe all we needed was a break from each other.
"If there's hesitation then you must not be sure."
"No, I think we've always been friends. Friends argue, don't they?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"I'm just tired of her stepping all over me all the time. She's so insecure about herself, and then she has to go out and make others feel more insecure about them so she can feel better about herself. It's not fair."
"Life isn't fair."
"No, but she is getting away with so much, when she doesn't deserve to. She should feel what these girls are going through. She needs to stop."
"Two wrongs don't make a right."
"I know! But I don't know what else to do," I moaned.
"Talk to her," he suggested.
"Not going to do anything," I said, bitterly.
"You know her better than me," he shrugged."
"I know."
"Oh by the way, your hair looks nice. Did you highlight it?"
"Y-yeah, thanks," I stuttered. No guy had ever complimented on my hair before. They never actually complimented me on anything.
"So do you want to eat these over there?" He motioned to a small table over by the Mall Service area.
"Sure," I shrugged and walked with him over there.
The rest of the afternoon I spent hanging out with Crispin. We talked about small things. Ask each other questions about each other's countries. Our likes and dislikes. Anything and everything we talked about.
"So this one time I was playing around with my friend... we were playing football, no not soccer, football like you American's play," Crispin started, "and I was running at him to tackle him to get the ball, well as I was running, he ducked, and I flipped head first over him, and landed on my bottom!"
I burst out laughing, "No that did not happen!"
"It did! I swear to God it did," he laughed, "and then he burst out laughing, and ran away, getting a touch down."
"Oh my gosh, that is hilarious."
"I know! Well, it wasn't funny at the time, but it is now," he leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath.
"This one time I was playing soccer with my cousin, and the field was kind of muddy, and I've never been good at soccer," I started laughing before I even got into the funny part.
"Come on," Crispin laughed, "get yourself together!"
"Sorry," I giggled, "anyways, I had given up on kicking the ball, because I just couldn't do it, and just picked it up with my hands and ran. Well my friend was playing with me and my cousin, and it was actually his ball. So when I ran over to my friend to hide behind him, he held out his arm, and I ran smack into his arm and he close-lined me!"
"No!" Crispin bust out laughing, "I don't believe that!"
"It happened! I'm not joking!" I laughed with him, then composed myself to finish the story, "then when I was lying on the ground, looking up at them they were laughing, and I was angry. So I got up, and... my back was covered in mud! I was so mad."
"This is really just too good," Crispin laughed.
"I know! It's kind of embarrassing. My friend claimed that I slipped and didn't even touch his arm, but I disagree. I ran right into his arm!"
"Why was his arm sticking out anyways?"
"Because he said he was trying to stop me from falling, but I wasn't even falling at the time. It was so funny, though."
We laughed a bit more, and talked about a few other events in our lives, not as funny, but still funny.
"I have to go," I said looking at my watch, "I have to make dinner and the bus is going to be here in ten minutes, and I don't want to miss it."
"How about I just give you a ride home?" Crispin offered.
"You have a car?"
"Borrowing Dylan's," he replied getting up, and pulling out my chair for me to get out too.
"Okay, if you sure it's not a problem."
"Not at all. You live right by him, so it is no trouble at all."
"You do know that we drive on the left side, not right, right?" I asked leery, following him to the exit.
"Are you sure? I drove on the right side all the way here..."
"How did you even make it here alive?!" I croaked.
"Just joking," he smiled down at me, "I know you drive on the left here."
"Just checking," I mumbled looking at the ground.
On the car ride home we listened to the radio singing along to "Give Me Everything" by Pitbull. I did Ne-yo and Nayer's part, while Crispin rapped. It was pretty entertaining listening to him rap. His British accent made it sound really proper, and just down right funny. But I didn't laugh.
When we arrived back into town, Crispin turned down the music, and slowed his speed from 50 mph to 25 mph. In our small town, 25 mph was like race car speed.
"So Dylan and I are going to this skating rink tonight, you want to join us?" Crispin asked turning down onto my street.
"The one in town?"
"Yep, we'll be leaving at about seven."
"Sure, I'll meet you there."
"No, don't worry about it, we can pick you up," Crispin turned onto my driveway.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. See you at seven."
"See ya," I said and got out of the car and walked up to my front door and waved good bye until he was out of sight.
When I got into the house, my mom was sitting on the couch; her legs crossed one over the other. Her hair was pulled up into the tight bun it usually is pulled into, and she was still in her business suit. My mother was the CEO of some commercial fishing company here in Maine, and I rarely ever saw her. If I did see her, let's just say that it wasn't the greatest of conversations I've ever had.
"Where were you?" she asked, not even greeting me.
"At the mall."
"With who?"
"Xana, and someone else you don't know."
"That person I don't know was that who dropped you off?"
"Yep, I gotta go make dinner," I walked past her, and entered the kitchen, to see that dinner was already in the oven.
"I took the liberty of making dinner today, since you didn't seem to be coming home any time soon," she walked into the kitchen. Her tall 5'9 frame looming over me.
"Thanks, but I still had plenty of time to make it-"
"You have responsibilities, Aislinn," she began in her lecturing tone, "you should have had it done before you went out with your-friends."
"I was making hot subs, it only takes not even an hour to make it-"
"Don't talk back to me," she said coldly.
"Sorry," I mumbled and walked out of the kitchen not wanting to talk with her anymore. I don't know what was up her butt today. She usually isn't that harsh. Maybe she had a bad day at work and decided to take it out me. Who knows? I don't really care.
As I walked upstairs to my room I passed my dad, where he was sitting in his office.
"Careful, your mom is in a bear of a mood today," he whispered.
"I know. She made dinner," I grumbled and walked into his office and sat down in the one of the chairs.
"Oh... What'd she make?"
"Beef stew," I picked at a hangnail on my thumb.
"Her specialty," he laughed lightly.
"Yep."
My dad worked from home. He owned a boat rental company for commercial fishing. If you haven't noticed the pattern yet, everyone in this small town pretty much works for commercial companies. If they didn't work there, they'd work at one of the small stores in town or work at the mall.
"Any special plans for the night?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to the skating rink with a few friends."
"Xana?" he raised his eyebrows in surprise. I never went to the roller rink because it supposedly was uncool.
"No, some guy," I said.
"Ah different place for a date, isn't it?"
"No, it's not a date. We're just friends," I laughed and got up, giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaving, "I'll see you later."
"Bye, Sweetheart."
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Sorry for such a long wait for an update! I've been busy and been having personal issues and stuff, but I finally posted!(: I won't be updating much in December (sorry), but I will try to update once or twice? I want to hear your thoughts. Characters, plot, whatever you want to comment on, leave a comment(: Please remember to vote! Have a great day!(: