Falling For Coke

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

-Two years later-

"Grace, I will not go to some stupid mask ball, whatnot...!" I protest as Grace and I strolled around the mall together.

"Masquerade," Grace corrects me. "Oh, come on, it's my cousin's homecoming celebration. We deserve fun, don't we?"

"No, we do not," I sigh.

"Bright, this is the first time we went to a mall in, what, three weeks? It's payday!" Grace exclaims, skipping around me in an enthusiastic circle. "Come on, girlfriend, you've been crashed on the couch watching The Voice..."

I had to admit it, she's right. I'm a wreck.

"Okay, okay," I say in defeat.

"Great! We can start with AEO."

"No, Abercrombie and Fitch, please," I say, starting to get the hang of things.

Grace's in such a good mood that she doesn't even bother to argue. "Fine, Abercrombie and Fitch and then AEO."

"Okay," I agree, and we walk toward the stores. "And about the masquerade..."

Grace looks at me firmly. "We. Are. Going. Vanessa-my cousin's sister, you know Vanessa, right?-already fixed our dresses and everything. Including the mask. Oooh! I need those jeans!" And she drags me inside Abercrombie and Fitch.

After buying a couple of things, we head down to AEO. And a couple of other stuff later, we collapse on two seats in the food court.

"'Let's Eat'," Grace quotes.

"Yeah, we pass that big stupid sign every time we go here," I say, referring to the big LET'S EAT sign, hanging above the entrance of the food court.

"No, I really want to eat."

Grace heads in the direction of the Wendy's booth while I go to the Panda Express. I'm a big fan of Chinese now by the way, thanks to that orange chicken Grace forced me to try ages ago.

I settle down at our table and break a pair of chopsticks apart. Then I shove a piece of orange chicken into my mouth. Yum.

Grace slides into the seat beside me with a tray from Wendy's. She bites into the big, no, ginormous burger and looks at me.

"Yum."

"Yes, yum," I agree and start on the small portion of vegetables.

Pop!

Sssssss!

I stare at the can she popped open. The carbonated drink fizzes merrily from the can's insides.

Coke.

Grace chugs down the whole can without resting. "Ahh. I like Coke."

I've been trying to forget about him. Really. But just as Grace pops open the can, Coke pops into my mind. During random moments well, like now.

I grimace. "Grace, did you have to?"

"What?"

"Coke?"

Grace glares at me. "The universe doesn't revolve around you, you know. I order Coke because I like Coke. You can't tell the world to shut down all the factories of Coca Cola just for you. So leave me and my preferences alone. You know what? Get over him. Get a life. You're twenty, which is, like, sort of old. Get a decent boyfriend."

I slump in my seat. She has a point.

* * * * *

"NOOO WAAAY!"

From a distance, it would sound as if someone was giving birth inside our apartment. But it's actually me, refusing the dress Vanessa prepared for us.

"You can't expect me to-!"

"It's, in a nutshell, perfecto! Unless you want to wear this..." Grace gestures to the bolder, sexier, more daring dress Grace is to wear. It's a black tube dress with a giant slit that runs down from the hip to the ankle.

"Vanessa is into this sort of stuff," I say vaguely, grimacing at the slit. "Isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah. Did you know she's into-?"

"Don't. Even."

"Okay."

I stare at the dress I'm going to wear. Too daring for my taste but not as daring as Grace's.

"Okay, fine. I'll take it."

"Good. Because..." Grace leans in. "It's not just a welcome home party." She says with a flourish.

"Huh?"

"Yes. It's also a surprise proposal. Oooooh, Ashley's going to loooove it!"

"Ashley?"

"My cousin," Grace says impatiently. "Aaand, I have a fun fun fun schedule for us tomorrow before the party!"

I groan. "What?"

"Makeover time!" she squeals excitedly. "I'm planning to get my hair trimmed. What about you?"

"Makeover?" I screech. "What?"

"You need it!"

So the next morning, we shove down a stack of pancakes and make our way to the salon.

"'Ello, 'ello," a posh looking lady beckons for us to come in. "Welcum."

"Chill, Bright, I've got this. Bonjour!" Grace greets happily saying 'Bonjour' in her regular American accent, saying 'Bon-jer'.

Obviously, this lady is French. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, duh. On second thought, When in a snobby looking posh French salon, do as the snobby posh French lady does.

I clear my throat and speak in perfect French. "Bonjour, Madame. Comment allez vous?"

The woman looks impressed. "Merci. Tres bien. Comment tu t'appelles?"

"Je m'appelle Bright, Madame."

English translation for you guys:

Me: Good day, Ma'am. How are you?

Lady: Thank you. Very well. What's your name?

Me: My name is Bright, Ma'am.

Grace just stares at us as we talk.

Finally, Ma'am Jean turns to Grace.

"I will geev you your haircoot," she announces in a snooty accent.

Grace turns to me in dismay. "Wow."

"Your welcome."

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COMMENT ALLEZ VOUS, GUYS?

BONJOUR! OR FOR THOSE PEOPLE WITH DIFFERENT TIME ZONES... BONSOIR!

ANYWAY, SORRY FOR THAT COKE-LESS CHAPTER. MAYBE THE NEXT ONE WILL HAVE HIM!

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MERCI!

AU REVOIR GUYS!

-LivingInTheCity.

OH YEAH, AND FOLLOW MAH GIRL @fairygarden. HER STORY IS AWESOME:)

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