My Enemy's Brother

Chapter 18: Nicole

"Is Bengay effective as Icy-Hot?" I asked the clerk in the counter. "I have been to 6 stores and all they have is Tiger Balm. I don't like the other ointments as much as Icy-Hot. Luckily, you guys have Bengay, but I was wondering. Is it effective as Icy-Hot or-?"

"I don't know. Are you going to purchase it or what?" she looks at me dully in zombie-like tone. I arched my brows at her. What a poor customer service!

"I asked you a question politely. Now, you wouldn't want me to talk to your supervisor now, do you?" I warned her. She stared at me.

She literally just stared at me like I was nobody. I'm paying for your paycheck, bitch.

I groaned at her and then handed her my credit card. "Whatever. I'll just make sure you guys don't get customers," I muttered.

"Ms. North, I'm sorry for my behavior. I just really don't know. I don't use ointment cream as much as the girls that bought the whole stock we have in the store," she answered me with good manners this time. I cocked my brows at her.

"Wait-how did the other girls look like?" I quickly asked her.

"They looked . . . like girls, really exhausted looking ones like you," she commented. At least I know I am not the only one whose body is sore. "They have a blonde friend who bought the whole stock we had for the girls."

I don't know if she did this on purpose but curse her still.

The girl punches in the Bengay then hands me back my card. I signed the receipt and then I walked out. The only reason she suddenly changed her attitude towards her was because she found out that I'm a North from my credit card.

Quinn meant it when she said I am not dancing in the boys' basketball varsity game this Friday. I was wearing the school colors and my dancing outfit when I entered the gym. Then, I saw Quinn pointing out to a sophomore girl where her position is, which was my position.

Quinn tortured me in dance practice. I tried getting my revenge on her in cheer practice, except it didn't affect her as much. She wasn't inflicted with the constant repetition I asked the squad to keep doing. While I watched the whole squad do their cheer perfectly, I made them do it again and again because Quinn wasn't showing any sign of irritation which irritated me.

This was my only way of physically torturing her back after she has tortured me in dance practice. Now, it wasn't working on her.

Today marked the first day of the countdown to our school's Winter Competition. It was basically the grade levels competing against each other in variety of activities. Courtney is the head of the committee. She told me that there will be a lot of games and activities this year.

There was one contest that I would never 'not' participate in. It was a dance-off. Usually, the juniors and seniors win the competition but two years ago, the sophomores beat them to it. That was because I was part of that dance squad who contributed in the choreography too. Quinn was, too.

"Okay, we have the tug-of-war, capture the flag, blah blah blah. . . " the class's president said. "Okay, all we need to set up is our dance team. Who will dance for us?" he asked.

When he looks up from his clipboard, he looks at me then averts to Quinn. "Nicole, Quinn, I assume you too will be signing up for that?" He knew us so well already.

Quinn nods. "But we need other people too," she added.

I turn to Monica, "Why aren't you raising your hand?"