Crash Landing [✓]

15

Chapter Fifteen | PROMISE ME YOU'LL SAVE YOURSELVES FIRST?

My first thought had been to run and pull out a gun. Not because I wanted to scare the woman in front of me, although that certainly would have been appropriate, but to keep it by me just in case things ran awry.

Ingrid Lionel stared at me with wild eyes, she was wearing contact lenses which didn't do much to hide the ugly persona shrivelled inside that cold soul of hers and her face was twisted up with a displeasing expression.

"Hey Ingrid," I grumbled distastefully, "Did Betty invite you?"

I could almost taste the fire behind my tone, it was scorching, lacing my tongue. If Betty really had invited Ingrid, I would most certainly be having an exclusive conversation with my best friend and gift her an ass whooping with a cherry on top, maybe I'd even get Toffee to claw at her cute, little button nose.

"Betty Schmidt, the other hostess? No. A friend, of a friend is your friend?" Ingrid said happily, sipping wine and giggling like a stupid doll.

"Who?" I muttered, "What?"

"We have a mutual friend, sort of. Blake Winters?"

Since when was Blake bringing plus ones and not informing me about it?

But then again, I had a feeling that Blake only had to mention it and stupid Ingrid would have jumped on the bandwagon; she simply loved a good party to attend, to gossip and smother her injected, Kylie Jenner lips all over everyone.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't care what another women did with their body, considering Betty liked getting butt fillers and had even tried talking me into it at some point.

But Ingrid?

She intentionally ruined my Sophomore year experience. I was just a cute girl, with my ponytails and denim jackets and very lovely Harry Potter glasses; yet she managed to ward off all the boys from taking me to Homecoming singlehandedly, and succeeded at having them not want to be anywhere near me because I wasn't that girl for them.

That sort of thing was damaging for my self esteem. So it truly angered me that she was here. It was aggravating enough that she was a local at the grocery store and our paths collided time to time, especially recently.

"Get out of my face," I finally said, voice void of any emotion, causing Ingrid to furrow her eyebrows in frustration, "If you want to stick around, stay out of my sight."

"Fine." Ingrid remarked, "I was just trying to be nice for what I did back in High School."

"Wow, good attempt at that," I mused, "What do you do Ingrid? What's your day job?"

"I'm a Nail Artist," She proudly stated, "What else?"

"Which is exactly why I didn't bother shitting on you during Sophomore year. Look where you are today?" I sneered, "Now if you'll excuse me," I grasped her wine flute and downed the raspberry content, "I have to go hang with my friends."