Solitude

Chapter Two: ...but shit it was only 99 cents

I pride myself on being a good actress, or at least good at lying. I've had plenty of practice my whole life of masking my emotions and putting on a façade. If people ever knew that what I show isn't truly me, they'd think they would have to be born with my skill. Most would say I make it look so effortless. I have worked so hard at creating the image of me that I don’t even blink when I need to lie.

Josh still catches me off guard though, and I can’t help but let a look of shock flash through my eyes as I stare at him. Knowing that I’ll stutter if I try to talk, I wordlessly write Carla’s number on the hand that’s not on the cup and then he begins laughing. The frickin’ bastard begins laughing. He manages to get out,

“I was kidding…” he pauses to take a look at the name written on my cup, “Carla. I was kidding, but if you really want to go out with me, you could’ve just asked.”

I manage to keep from flushing a deep shade of red, but a hint of scarlet still dusts my cheeks.

In an even tone I reply, “Josh, that’s absurd, I’d never date you. I’m doing this for my friend Carla.”

“Oh, on a first name basis now are we? I didn’t know-,” he starts, but a cranky, old man butts in.

“Hurry up you two, this is Pete’s Coffee and Tea not some club for getting down!”

“Sorry sir,” Josh rushes to apologize. “However,” he continues, “This is Starbucks, not Pete’s Coffee and Tea.”

I snicker to myself secretly hoping I never lose my mind like that when I’m older. As I head out, I call over my shoulder, “Call my friend, and by the way, her name is Carla not mine!”

            I faintly hear a reply of, “So what’s yours?” before the door slams shut behind me. I begin to walk away from the Starbucks and then I hear footsteps behind me. Someone snatches the coffee from my hand and I keep walking.

“You know,” a female voice begins, “You should check to make sure it’s me who stole your coffee and not some stranger. Or else I’d be pissed at you.”

“So, what if some gang member did steal it from me? You want me to die getting your cup of sugar back? ‘Sides, I don’t even have nails to scratch ‘em with,” I retort. I flash her my fingers that hold bitten down fingernails.

“Whatever,” Carla sighs, having nothing to say to me as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“Alright are we done here?” I ask, I just want to go home where I can peacefully read and eat.

“Yeah, sure see you soon,” she replies as I turn onto Hoover Street so I can head home.

            What she had just said was a lie; she and I both knew it. The conversation I had just had with her was the longest one we’d shared since the fifth grade. We were more like people who saw each other at school than friends. We’d once been partnered together on a science project in fifth grade. I went over to work with her at her house one time and that was it. She’s nice and has a normal family and life. She has an older brother who I could tell shares a strong bond with her.

            When I get home, I grab a handful of the cookies I made yesterday and bring them to my room. I grab my crappy laptop, ready to start reading or listening to  music, when my brother barges into my room.

“Where’s the ipad?” he demands.

“In the kitchen, stupid,” I reply, mad that I’m being interrupted from my afternoon of peace.

“Whatever,” he says as he leaves.

I sigh and stare at the wall opposite me. I really need to get a life, I wish they sold them at grocery stores. I have barely any friends, and all I do is read, eat, and listen to music no one else has even heard of. At least in Candy Crush new lives only cost 99 cents. In real life, you have to work hard, being social and everything, which includes liking things others like. Well, no use wallowing in self pity, I tell myself as I plug in my earbuds and sing off-key to All Time Low’s Stella. Life is not worth 99 cents.