Shania Twain was perfect. She was a famous country singer at the age of seventeen and as if it weren't adequate that she had enough money to buy all she wanted and more, Shania was pretty. Not like a flower‒no‒she was more like a good Sudoku puzzle, an enigma of her own.
Shania liked Sudoku puzzles. Shania liked Shania Twain too. She found it unfortunate they shared the same name. In all her fantasies, it was odd to call her Shania, so she settled for Twain.
Twain was beautiful, it wasn't due to make-up or heavy conditioning or even puberty. She had always been beautiful. Not only was she beautiful but she was unbelievably kind. Just the other day, Shania had dropped her fork. Twain had gone out of her way to give it back to her, much to Shania's embarrassment. It was a toddler fork and nothing was more embarrassing to the seventeen year-old than having the second-most popular girl walk into your class and hand it to you. Shania had only four friends, but that day, it seemed like she had at least thirty with how everyone wanted to talk to her.
“It couldn't be worse than the most popular girl handing it to you,” One of her four friends and perhaps the only sane one, Gurleen, said.
Shania laughed. It was impossible for the most popular girl in their high school to hand it to her because she was the most popular girl at school. Well not her per se, but Clitorii Killer whom everyone intimately calls Tori even though she hasn't held a conversation longer than a minute with anyone.
“So how's that job going?” Gurleen shifted nervously, noticing how uneasy Shania was becoming with the current topic.
Shania smiled slightly, she didn't have a job.
Shania's family had been cursed to turn unfathomably beautiful every Friday. This meant that every Friday, Shania wouldn't be allowed to attend school, lest someone notice that her breasts had grown two sizes, her waist had gone down two sizes and suddenly any blemish that she had was gone. Of course, every Friday, Shania didn't look like herself. Shania guessed that if she attended school every Friday, she was sure they wouldn't think that the woman was her. In fact, they didn't.
Shania made the mistake of not noticing the orientation for her school happened to be on a Friday. Poor thirteen-year-old Shania woke up late that day and frantically slapped on suitable clothing, not even bothering to notice that her legs (which she hadn't bothered to shave because she hadn't planned on flaunting them) were magically hair-less.
Noticing all too late that it was a friday, she had to go through with the orientation. Thinking it was funny, she wrote”Clitorii Killer” as her name on her registration sheet. Shania didn't think that she would be coming to school on a Friday again. She especially didn't think that the school would post a lost person's ad for Clitorii Killer.
Reluctantly, Shania attended school every Friday under the guise of Clitorii Killer to make sure that they didn't hunt her down.
“Well,” Shania said finally, “My work is going well.”
Shania sighed, she didn't like lying to her friends (especially since she only had four friends) but her mother drilled into her at a young age that if she ever told anyone- they would reject her.
Her eyes eventually wandered the cafeteria. It was only five minutes into lunch and Twain was already surrounded by a crowd of people. The were-model wasn't jealous, she was more concerned. She had seen Twain cut class simply to eat her lunch.
"Do you ever think she gets tired of that?" Shania mused, "Do you ever think she gets sad?"
Gurleen laughed, "Who? Shania Twain? The only time she cries are in her music videos and those are fake tears."
Shania frowned, "Are her songs even good? I don't listen to them."
Gurleen laughed again, "You love her don't you?" She paused and took a sip of her grape-flavoured apple juice, "And you want to tell me that you don't even listen to her music? Her pride and joy?"
"Do you?"
"No."
"I used to watch her music videos with the music I like playing in the background but It was really wierd watching her ride horses to a scream track." Shania smiled, "My dad's a pretty big fan."
"That's kinda creepy." Gurleen zipped her bag and pulled it over her shoulder, "See you at band practice." She walked off with her braid swinging in the wind.
"But he loves my mommy alot.." Shania mumbled. She then turned to her second friend, Anisah, who was quietly painting egg yolks at the table. "What do you think?"
"Don't bother me Shania, I'm painting egg yolks."
