Wendy's Mirror

Chapter Twenty-Six

WALKING INTO THE KITCHEN in my work uniform, I checked the fridge for something to eat. Sure, Samantha was kind enough to get me cookies and chocolates but if I ate any of those, I just might die. I needed something natural, it seemed I was getting used to my new diet.

I scanned through my fridge with my index finger, noting that Samantha had eaten more than half of my stash in just two days of her arrival. I mean, this girl was far richer than I was, so why eat my potato chips?!

I paused as my finger came in contact with a pack of four drinks and my lips twitched. Why didn't Samantha tell me that Scott left me a drink?

I pulled out one of the sealed cups and stared at it, laughing as I remembered how he had held it the night we met. Poking a straw into the cup, I took a sip and relished in delight.

"Have grapes always tasted this good?" I asked myself.

I walked over to my dresser and put on my glasses, reading the content of the ingredients again. I took another sip and placed the cup down, moving over to style my hair as I stared into the mirror. My puffy eyes seemed to have calmed down but my dark circles were now more visible. Luckily, there was a great invention to help me. And we call her— concealer!

I pulled out my main make-up box from my drawer and slammed my face with enough make-up till I looked human and not like some three million-year-old zombie with the flu. As I kept my make-up set back in its place and drew out the next drawer to take out my brush, I saw my house key lying there— more specifically, the key I had given to Samantha in case she ever visited.

"So, she took my key and left hers?" I asked the mirror as I picked up the key and set it on the table.

Well, great because I had to get to work in the next thirty minutes and those three mischievous musketeers still hadn't arrived back home.

As I got up from my dresser chair, I cringed in embarrassment, remembering how I had dramatically fallen into Scott's arms the night before. Like it wanted to taunt me, my mind kept replaying the scene over and over again.

"Argh, shit!" I softly slapped myself.

I strolled out of the apartment and down the alley, trying to think of anything but the events of the previous day. My skirt was awfully tight, so I decided to fix my mind on that and nothing else but that. I boarded a cab as I arrived at the main street and took a long sip of the grape juice in my hands, settling down in the vehicle.

I tapped my finger on my lap in rhythm with the music playing in the cab, just as I hummed along. It was an old song, full of nostalgia and reminisce. My father used to play that song every morning back then and I would sleep off because of how boring it was. But now, it felt more soothing than boring.

I looked outside the car window as the vehicle approached Thomas's building.

"I'm fine here," I said to the driver, "You can pull over behind that red vehicle."

I alighted the cab as the three girls walked out of Thomas's apartment building. Their faces were filled with disgust and anger, just as their hands held wooden bats. Their strut was like that you'd see on TV, where the girlfriend with red heels finally wanted to get revenge on her ex and screw him up in the worst way possible.

I was the one meant to be doing what they're doing and they were the ones meant to be looking for me to stop me from hurting Thomas too much. I couldn't tell if it was that I was too much of a coward to get revenge or I didn't just see the use.

"Wendy?" Annabelle said as she saw me approach them.

"It's too late. We already smashed everything," Samantha informed.