Watch Your Temper

Chapter Twenty-One: Weddings Suck

"I'm on tonight, you know my hips don't lie, and I'm starting to feel it's right."

"Five more minutes!" I moaned under my warm covers, dreading the moment I had to leave them. Unfortunately, my brand-new Shakira ring-tone got the best of me and I grudgingly got out of bed.

I kicked back the covers and leaped out of bed. I snatched my phone off my desk, and flipped it open.

"Hullo?" I muttered groggily.

"Oh, finally! I was beginning to wonder if you were going to pick up. Was the hair dryer blocking out the ring-tone?"

I frowned in confusion and scratched my head.

"What? What hair dryer?" I mumbled, opening my closet and fingering the smooth material of my dress. I couldn't wait to wear it...

"Temper! Don't act stupid with me. You're getting your hair done right now at Little Miss Delicate. Wait.... you are there, right, Temper? Temper?" my mom panicked, and I felt my heart stop.

"Um... o-oh. Y-yeah. Of course. Erm, HEY! Linda, stop poking my head!" I pretended to yell at a non-existent hairdresser.

"Don't complain, hon. Just let them do their job. I'm sure it'll turn out great. Anyway, I'm with Ronnie now, getting his tux fit for the last time. I can't pick you up, so do you think you could take a taxi to your dad's house?" she asked, and I vaguely heard Ronnie complaining in the background.

"Yup! Sure!" I answered a little too quickly.

"Alright. Be careful with your makeup and dress, okay? The last thing we would need is for you to destroy that expensive thing," she muttered, and as soon as she hung up, I sprinted to the bathroom.

"Shit! I slept in!" I screamed the obvious to the empty apartment. Now was not the time to freak out, though. I contemplated who I could call for help, because I would definitely be needing it. And lots of it.

It was way too late to go to that hair place, like I was supposed to have hours ago, and the Arbings were obviously getting prepared themselves. Numbers of people who I could call flew through my mind in a messy blur, but I somehow managed to come up with a substantial plan.

I stabbed a number in my phone, and as soon as I heard her voice, I rushed out words.

"THIS IS TEMPER! I HAVE A HAIR AND MAKEUP EMERGENCY. GET TO MY HOUSE STAT!" I shrieked, and hung up. One down, two to go.

I repeated my message to another friend, and dug my fingernails into my palm. How could I be so stupid? So careless?

I did some swift meditating before dialing the last number.

Once that was taken care of, I tossed my phone across the room and threw open the bathroom cabinet, raking through its contents for a few certain objects. I grabbed a handful of hair appliances and makeup kits. I paced the length of the small bathroom before flying back into my room. I pulled off my baggy pajamas and tossed them into the hamper. Then I ripped the dress off the hanger in my closet-- despite my mother's warnings-- and shoved it over my head.

I heard the doorbell ring a few times, and I ran to answer it. I flung open the door, to see all three of my friends standing there.

"I came as soon as I got your call," Cleo panted, her pretty face a little flushed.

"What's wrong?!" Harper demanded, looking past me, into the apartment.

"Are you hurt?" Apollo demanded, searching me for any sign of injury.

"No! I told you it was a hair and makeup emergency. Okay, come in, and I'll elaborate!" I said, rushing them all into the room.

"Well, first you should calm down, Temp. It's fine. We're here," Apollo muttered comfortingly, patting my shoulder. This was the reason I had called him-- despite him being a guy and all, I knew I could count on him to calm me down. I breathed in and out, and tried my best to speak coherently.