How to Kill The Potential Prom Queen (gxg)

5: Celebration!!!

Unfortunately, I didn't get the part, I stuttered, forgot my line, and took off. But, good news, a biological research institute had called me. They said I could start working the day after. My feelings were unfathomable. I was nervous and excited, and happy and disappointed (because it took me that long to find a job). All those feelings were all felt at once. My tears started rushing down my face. I began calling Layla who was in the bathroom, taking a poop.

I burst in the premises, with all my emotions so high. I was crying already. "Oh, my gosh, Lolly. Oh, my gosh. I am so happy I am gonna die. I am going to die."

Layla only blinked and displayed a calm emotion, as usual. "Uh, I'm taking a shit?"

"I finally have a job! An actual job! A real freaking job!" I yelled in joy, tears falling off my face. The happiness that I felt that day was unexplainable.

"Wow!" Layla was shocked and happy at the same time. "I knew you had it in you. Congratz, Naomi. I am so proud of you. Let's have dinner. I know a place. My treat."

"Thanks!" I replied enthusiastically. "I could kiss someone right now!"

Layla chuckled, "You could kiss me, but I am pooping. That's disgusting. Now, get out."

I did not do what she said, instead, I began getting emotional. The words that came from my mouth were nonsensical and overdramatic. Layla actually was getting pissed off.

"Get out, please?"

Layla, still rude, was actually very happy for me. I could see it in her eyes--- the way they displayed a cheerful look. She was beautiful. She had this weird effect on me. I probably couldn't do it without her. She was always there for me, figuratively and literally. We share the same apartment, duh. I hadn't really appreciated how much of a beauty she was until that night--- when she was taking a crap.

I wore my usual clothing: jeans, plain t-shirt, and a hoodie layered with a wool coat. It was cold, okay? Layla then came out of her bedroom. Nothing surprising, she always looked stunning no matter what she wore. But it was how she came out of the room. It was like a metaphorical wind blew her hair and everything went slow motion. That was how I viewed it. She looked at me with those eyes of hers. They were warm and subtle. She then displayed her killer smile. Damn, a cupid hit an arrow through my chest. I had a crush her.

Shit!

She shot a look and I instantly snapped out.

Layla squinted like I was up to something.

"What?" I asked her.

She only moaned and rolled her eyes. She then faced the mirror to do her make-up and put on her hijab. "I have a feeling that you are gay for me," she said bluntly.

I deny right away. She only shrugged it off. Hello? Why the hell would I tell her the truth? Everything would then become awkward. That was not how I'd want things to happen. Better shift to another topic.

"Why do you cover your hair?" I asked while Layla was busy putting on her hijab.

"Well," she began. "The purpose of wearing a hijab is to inspire modesty between women and men. Also, it's part of my culture. Plus, women are objects of sexualisation. It's sad, but it's the truth."

"What about the men? Why do women always have to adjust?" I rolled my eyes.

"Men are actually taught to lower their gaze in the presence of women."