Femme Fatale

4|Ice Cream Cookies.

♀
"I rather not, really." I say, for the umpteenth time. Taryn managed to coax me out of the stall, 10 minutes ago. It was clear that she knew who I was, but made no remarks about it. She sits on the counter, swinging her feet back and forth. She glances at me quickly then shrugs absent-mindedly.

"You're choice then" Taryn pushes a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She looks like on of the cool girls who love the rough and ragged street style mixed with a love for black. Black nails, choker and trendy specs. She was bold and fierce. I couldn't help but feel awed and slightly intimidated.

I look at myself in the mirror, I'm mess. The sound of running water calms me down. I wash my face, rubbing away all the soot from the ruined mascara. My bright red lips smudged. I look like the Joker on a bad day. I wipe off all the makeup.

In the refectlion, I could see myself- no mask on- no bullshit. I'm bare and naked, all my feelings and thoughts out in the open. The vulnerability is overwhelming and for a moment I don't mind at all.

"Dude, how is your eyeliner perfectly still on? There's isn't a single pigment out of place!" Taryn pipes up, she curiously examines my face. I'm caught off guard when she seizes my cheeks and pulls my face closer for further inspection. And despite my shock I let her. For a while, she skims over my features like she's memorizing. As the seconds go, the more uncomfortable I get. I don't budge, I'm taken by her childlike fascination.

"Ughh, I used a sharpie." I blurt out awkwardly. She lets go and grins.

"That." She begins, "is genius."

"Oh you know, tough times need tougher eyeliner these days."

"I like you, you're funny." Taryn says between laughs. I can't help but smile at the compliment. It makes my heart a little lighter, and I'm thankful.

She hovers around me, humming and writing on her notebook. I reappling the makeup that I had washed away. She peers over at me, once or twice, then returning to her notebook. I wonder what she's writing? I start to grow suspicious as I apply my lipstick.

"Not be rude, but don't you have other things to do than sit with me?"

"I rather be here than in a classroom filled with bastards." She says, twirling her pen, "besides, I like to write somewhere without being annoyed because some dickhead bothers me."

"Makes sense." I reply, maybe I'll ask her another time.

I pack up the makeup and stuff it into the bottom of my back pack. I'm ready to leave, but I have no where to go. Home is out of the options now. After spending a week inside, I'm tired of seeing the same familiar rooms. Besides, I'm not ready to end the day. Sling the bag on my shoulder and make my way towards the door.

My frustration and sadness has faded and flowed down the drain with the rest of my makeup. It was replaced by emptiness and a stomach full of evil somersaulting butterflies. I pause, to look at Tayrn who had helped me and expected nothing in return. Even for a moment, she helped me forget and comforted me. She did it because she wanted to.

"By the way, thank you. I would have stayed there for eternity." I say, pausing by the door.

"No problem" she then adds, "You wanna somewhere with me? The bathroom gets kinda clammy sometimes."

I think I deserve to skip class with this girl. I kinda owe her, so might as well. Besides, I've been dying to get out of here.

"Yeah, okay"

"Great! I know a sweet spot." She jumps down the counter, brushes herself off and pushes up her glasses. She then shoves the notebook and pen back into the bag. Together we exit the restroom and out off the school.