karma → 5sos au

0.1

word count: 2k

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Am I going to do it? Bryana asked herself.

She looked down the brightly lit mall at the blur of faces, shoppers balancing packages, pulling young children, peering into colorful display windows, teenagers walking in twos and threes, beginning their Friday night prowl.

Of course I am, Bryana decided, a smile slowly spreading across her full, pink lips. Once I get something in my head, I always go through with it.

"Daddy's little go-getter." That's what Richard Holly, Bryana's father, always called her.

His highest compliment: "Daddy's little go-getter. She'll never take no for an answer."

There were lots of compliments from dad, Bryana thought bitterly, walking quickly away from the meeting place by the bookstore, crossing the wide aisleway, then stopping. I was Daddy's girl, "a real Holly."

Of course, thought Bryana, her smile now completely gone, that didn't stop him from leaving. That didn't stop him from running off with that cheap-looking blonde, off to Montgomery or some crazy place. Her mother refused to tell her where.

She hadn't heard from her father since, not even on her sixteenth birthday.

Mom had done alright, though, thought Bryana. Tiny, meek little mom. Well, she wasn't so meek when divorce time came around. She must've taken Daddy for every penny he had, which was considerable. The two of them had lived really well ever since. Mom and Bryana. They enjoyed being rich and not having Daddy around.

At least Bryana did.

Daddy's little go-getter didn't miss Daddy at all.

So why was she standing on the edge of this mall now, watching the Friday night crowd pour in, thinking of him?

Breakups.

That was why.

Family breakups. Boyfriend breakups.

Breakups weren't so sad. In fact, they could lead to better things.

She thought of Ashton. His soft, curly blonde hair that she loved to run her fingers through. The dimples in his cheeks when he smiled that picture perfect smile. She wondered what Ashton was doing tonight while she was supposed to be out on a date with Luke.

What was that song on the loudspeaker? Some ancient Elvis song from the fifties. "Don't Be Cruel."

Bryana nearly laughed out loud. Don't be cruel?

Why not?

It was a cruel world.

She was about to do something cruel. And, she had to admit, she was enjoying it already.

She turned and caught her reflection in the Aeropostale store window. Not bad, she thought.

She knew she was beautiful. Why should she force herself to have false modesty and pretend she didn't know, like some simpering young thing in one of those embarrassing Elvis movies Luke had forced her to watch on TV?

She had the Holly good looks. That's what her father always told her - usually as a dig at her mother. She had the high cheekbones, the perfect, straight nose, the doe brown eyes that always seemed to be open wide, the proud, high forehead, and the blonde hair, so smooth and straight that it looked beautiful even cut so stylishly short.

The Holly good looks.

Maybe that's why her and her mother could never be that close, as close as other girls and their mothers. Or was that something from a dumb fifties movie, too?