Dare Me

Her: Prologue

“Holy sh*t, Mal,” I gasp as I run to catch up with her.

“I know you like shopping and all, but this,” I lift my arms up which have shopping bags dangling from every available area, “is insane.”

She just continues to stare at the model in the window of the store she just rushed to. She turns to me with wide eyes and breathes, “Isn’t it just gorgeous Cres?”

I stare at her and- attempt to- throw my hands up in the air. I drastically fail however, seeing as how my arms are laden with shopping bags. Her shopping bags I might add.

“What? What even? Did you hear a word I said? Seriously? Aye caramba!” I say the words dramatically, so she knows that I’m not actually mad at her. Mal tends to get confused a lot when I use sarcasm and the like, so I have to make it clear when I’m being serious and when I’m just messing with her.

“Cres? Are you mad? Why are you mad? Was it something I did? I’m sorry!” she panics.

I almost bang my head against the store’s spotless glass window. Apparently, she’s denser than I thought.

“Cres? I’m sorry, I’ll buy you ice-cream, no, cake and ice-cream from the food court. Just please don’t be maaaad,” she wails when I don’t answer her.

“No Mal, I just asked you a question and you didn’t answer me. And no I’m not mad. I was just being overly dramatic.”

I breathe in and out. In and out. She’s just a silly little girl who is very dense but also your best friend. I remind myself. In and out. This is what you decided to put up with when you agreed to be best friends with her. In and out. Okay. I want a frickin’ burger now. Well, she did offer to buy you food…

“Oh. Okay. So… we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Now, how about that burger you offered me?”

She furrows her eyebrows, and her face scrunches up. “I didn’t offer you a burger though,” she says thinking, “I offered you cake and ice-cream.”

“Yeah, well, you want to make sure I’m happy right?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I guess so…”

“Coolios, let’s go then.”

I grab her arm as best I can with my bag laden arms, and begin to drag her in the direction of the food court.

“But wait. What about that gorgeous top in Hollister?” she asks me.

“Holly-what? Hollywood? I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to Hollywood, and that we currently aren’t in Hollywood. So…” I say stupidly as I continue to pull her to the one of the two only good places in the mall. The food court. The only other good place is the bookstore.

I’m just messing with her, I know what Hollister is. It’s one of those awful stores that sells shorts that are too short and shirts that are too sheer for way too much money. I view it as a lose-lose situation. You’re basically giving away you money- and a lot of it I might add- to wear something that is too revealing.

“Ah…” I sigh as we enter the wonderfully wonderful bustling food court with delicious aromas wafting through the air.

“What? Why are you sighing? Are you sad?” Mal questions me stupidly.

“Nope,” I say, trying to-and failing miserably I might add- pop the p, “I’m just enjoying the scent of the delicious aromas wafting through the air.”

“Delicious aromas? It smells like a bunch of grease. And where do you get all of these fancy words? You know, you should seriously be an author.”