Eighty Days of Heartache

the twenty-eighth day;

THE TWENTY—EIGHTH DAY

"HAVE YOU HEARD from the devil?"

I wash my hands in the sink, in my peripheral vision Ivy is applying some more of her lipstick. Shaking my head, I watch as the soap lathers up, and scrub under my fingernails.

"Not a word," I drawl slowly, shoving my hands under the tap and letting the froth slide off of them. "Maybe you're right, maybe it was a decoy number."

Rolling her eyes, Ivy places the lid back on the bullet. "A girl can wish, but it's definitely him... who else calls a girl sweetness? It's his trademark pet name for you."

My heart stutters, because I haven't been called sweetness for so long. That was Theo's name for me. He'd kiss my neck and call me sweetness, because apparently I was too sweet to him.

I'm sure if we had a conversation now, I'd be anything other than sweet. I'd be salty and bitter, and probably sour, but I'd be anything but sweet. Sweet doesn't make you want to slap someone.

"But how can we be certain?" Huffing, I shake the excess of bubbles off of my hands and quickly stick them under the dryer. Ivy leans her hip against the school sink as I sigh. "I'm sure others call people sweetness."

"Call the number then," she shrugs almost harmlessly, and my heart makes a leap to my throat. "If you're so sure it's a fad, then call and see who picks up, but I put my boyfriend in it being Theo."

One of the toilets flush, and there's a signature clicking of heels which makes my whole world clatter. My eyes flick shut, and I let out a sigh of dismay. I am the epitome of misfortune.

Kathleen struts into my line of vision, her boots clicking against the floor as she walks towards the bathroom sink. "You should be careful, talking about your ex in the toilet."

Brushing my hands against my trousers, I give her a less than happy smile. "Do you wait for me to come into the toilets, before you crawl out of your stall?"

She snorts ungracefully, before digging into her pocket and pulling out a small tube of lipgloss. "Don't flatter yourself, I don't crawl for anyone," she mutters, puckering her lips and placing the thick lacquer across them.

"But you do wait in your stall?" Ivy comments, making me smirk. Kathleen scowls, her mouth twitching upwards to show those sharp teeth of hers. The amount of egos she's shredded with those, is beyond the number I can count to.

Her eyes narrow. "I don't wait for anyone."

Ivy grins maliciously. "You're so transparent."

Kathleen smirks. "And you're so annoying."

Swirling around, Kathleen gives us both a tedious look which has me rolling my eyes. "Fawn, just finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time," spitting, she wiped around her mouth with her ring finger; smoothing out the gloss.

"Cut the shit, Kathleen," Ivy snaps uncharacteristically, her fists clenching as she tightens her recently painted mouth into a flat line. "What problem do you have with Fawn?"

Shrugging Kathleen says, "she steals men from me... firstly it was Theo, and now it's Nero, so if she could kindly keep her dirty hands off the next guy I have a thing for, I'd really appreciate it."