Death Is My BFF (Book 1 Original Series)

Chapter 29: Death By Changing Room

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-Come on baby, don't fear the reaper.
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“Marcy, please don’t make me buy this. Please can we just go? I’m not feeling good.”

She pouted, and held the silk blue dress to my frame. “But it’s perfect for you! You need to wear more outfits to flatter your eyes, and match the status of your job!”

I sighed, walking to a stack of t-shirts. When I came home crying from work, because of David’s rude comments and behavior, Marcy had insisted I go shopping with her. Even with my protests, swollen eyes, and need to sleep, Marcy had pressed on. When she talks about shopping she talks about it like a medicine. Therefore, she insisted this shopping spree would save me.

 In my defense, she practically dragged me here by the hair.

“Marcy, I’m not telling you again. I’m quitting tomorrow,” I repeated for the seventh time. That bitch just wouldn’t let me quit in peace!

“Don’t make the decision right away, Faith. You're not a quiter, nor will you ever be! Look at all of your options, because I’ve never seen you so happy to get up every day and go to this job! You obviously love it!”

I tried not to burst out laughing at that completely false statement. “I use to love it. Until my Boss showed his true colors today.”

“Maybe he was just having an off day,” Marcy defended, looking at the t-shirt I picked up. Her eyes danced across my hand. “You’re still wearing that thing?” she questioned, pointing at my skull ring.

I lifted my hand up to my face, not realizing I put it on. “Oh…yeah I guess.”

It was black with a bunch of oldies bands on it. I read them all, loving the shirt more and more. I found some ripped jeans to go with it, and bright blue converse. The jeans were perfect for my style; boot cut, and medium washed.

Marcy laughed at my common choice of outfit. “Perfect.”

My fingers searched through the jeans sizes, making my face drop in disappointment. “They don’t have my size,” I said, searching around the store. I spotted a worker in the guys section, and told Marcy I would be right back. I felt my tired feet drag across the floor; I neared the worker talking to a tall girl in a tan dress. Her eye brows where creased in some kind of distress.

I tapped the workers shoulder, feeling like I was intruding. “Excuse me?”

He turned around, seeming shocked to see me. His blue eyes contrasted with his black workers polo shirt. The nametag on his shirt read Eric: Store Manager.

“What?” he asked sounding extremely annoyed of my interrupted.

I told him I needed the jeans in my size. He frowned as I talked, looking down at the clothing in my hands. “Can’t help you with that. Sorry.”

I laughed, thinking he was kidding. His face stayed serious. “Don’t you work here?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, in an obvious tone. He waved me off with his hand. “I don’t have time for you, I’m busy,” he said, turning back to the girl. I stared at the back of his messy, blond set of hair in shock.

Had that really just happened?

“Ok?” I spoke quietly, turning back to Marcy in disbelief.

She crossed her arms over her chest, seeing my expression. “What did the guy say? Do they have your size?”