Problems With The Hierarchy

#8 Best Friends, Indeed.

I know how it feels like to have a retarded best friend yet not having a single clue why you love her! Haha :) Dedicated to my beautiful friends. 

#8 Best Friends, Indeed.

When I woke up in the morning, I realised I had been sleeping on the couch last night.

I guess I fell asleep in the middle of the movie we watched yesterday. It was so boring. Today was Richard’s turn to choose. It was sort of a mutual agreement made by the two of us. If I chose the last time, the next time would be his turn. The other time I chose Home alone to cheer him up. But this time he had been so sinful to choose the most boring movie I’ve ever bought, okay I shall not mention the name but anyways, I must have fell asleep as I could not endure the 2 boring  hours.

“Good morning, princess.” Richard’s voice alerted me from the back.

“French Toasts for us, alright?” he continued to ask in a suggestive tone.

“Alright,” I approved of the idea.

Richard was this sweet to be a morning person who would prepare breakfast for me on Saturday mornings when my Mom hasn’t come home. Well, if my mother hasn’t, that means the same for his mom. Those two typical workaholics. Who tires themselves out when they could actually sit down and enjoy life? I wondered.

Ping! I’ve got a message. I pressed the home button and realised that it was already 10 in the morning. You can see that I’m not a morning person; hence I have never made breakfast for Richard, guiltily but yeah.

Opening up the message, it says: Hi Elizabeth, would you be free tonight at 6p.m.? I’ll pick you up at Joey’s house for the date. –Bryson

So my date is tonight? Great, my peaceful Saturday night is ruined, but I hope I would enjoy myself tonight, I thought.

“Sure, see you :)” I replied.

God. Did I just add a smiley at the back? Did I sound like I like him? Oh my God, oh my god.

“Who was that?” Richard asked inquisitively, with a smile on his face.

“Uh, Bryson.. My date is tonight at 6.”I stuttered, unsure if it was okay for Richard to know about it.

“Oh,” Richard’s smile vanished into a slight pout as he rolled his eyes at the thought. His lips look as though they were trying to speak, but he didn’t proceed to press the matter further, knowing that it would upset me.

“He’s fetching me at Joey’s house. I bet he got my number from her too, that little traitor,” I chuckled jokingly.

Luckily for me, Richard’s smile ascended back to his face as I commented.

“Need a ride?” he offered, being a sweet person he already was.

“Sure, thanks.” I ended the conversation as I walked to the kitchen counter for the sandwich that was prepared by Richard. That little dude, it was rather impossible to get mad at him since he likes to do sweet things that will melt your heart literally. Okay, not literally but you get what I mean.

During breakfast, we chatted about college. Richard, being the smart-ass he is, is going to try for Harvard, whereas I was still aimlessly looking for any college nearby which will accept me, since I didn’t really have excellent grades here.

As soon as we’re done with breakfast, I did the least I could do; cleaning up.  After I finished cleaning up, Richard alerted me with a horn on his car. He was already waiting for me. Being a half-witted person that I am, I left my phone on the kitchen counter; I only brought some money in my pocket.

**

“Call me when you’re done. I’ll e waiting for your call; regardless of how late you are, okay?” Richard told me, a note of finality in his voice.

“Sure,” I responded carelessly, as I see Joey waiting for me behind the gate. Did she look anxious! Yep, totally. She must have told Bryson. If not, she won’t be so excited, and waiting for me outside. As I stepped out of the car, I waved and walked towards Joey promptly.

“Yo Liz,” Joey greeted, gesturing me to enter her house like an oh-so-polite guest.

I gave her a skeptical look.

“Yo,” I greeted back.

She walked up to her room as I sat down on the couch. Sitting on the couch, I took a glance around her house.  

Her house is pretty much similar to mine; she has a normal living room, and a kitchen counter that is made of wood, except that they are all coated with white paint, evoking elegance. Classy.

However, if you walk into her room, you cannot say the same. Her room is full of pink. Apparently, she has her walls painted dark pink. Yes, I’m not joking. It’s dark pink alright. Her bed sheets are always pink, like how some trees are evergreen all year round. Her closet is neon pink and the wall behind the closet has a drawing of her name Joey is cursive form, the words being black. She did it herself. Besides inclining to writing like me, she also likes art. However, they were all too abstract and esoteric to sustain much attention from others. I remembered I became friends with her because I was part of the small group that could understand. All in all, she was more aesthetically inclined than me.

Laura is Joey’s awesome mother that works in the hospital as a doctor. She comes home for dinner unlike my mom. She was nice. And the most open-minded mother I have ever seen. Also a little dramatic. Look at Joey? Yeah, that’s about it. Not a workaholic, nevertheless, she would be on duty once in a while and she would only be back the next day. I would invite Joey for a sleepover when this happens.

“Get you a drink?” she asked, like a polite guest. Although she was almost too perky, she was a polite person who knew about manners; like knowing how to get a drink for her guest, albeit I was her best friend. But today she was exceptionally polite.

Hmm. Skeptical look number two.

“Sure,” I replied.

“You gave Bryson my number?” I asked her rhetorically, knowing that she did.

She turned and shot me an apologetic look.

I wasn’t exactly angry at all. I told you so, I was too good-tempered. Although I didn’t like that fact that Bryson got my number, I knew that Joey was being caring, she was just scared I didn’t have a boyfriend. As for her, she is actually single right now. She didn’t have a problem looking for a date. Yeah, you can imagine as the female version of Casanova. Okay not exactly, but the fact that she was exceptionally beautiful, aesthetically inclined, liked punk music and was definitely the ‘hard to get’ ones, she can almost hook up any guy she wants.

However, she has never found her true love as guys only wanted to get into her pants, and then leave. Jerks. All alike.

Sad to say, although she was so confident, she didn’t dare to put up her essays or writings on the magazine like I did. She said her essays were the weak side of her; she couldn’t show it to anyone else… well except me of course. You should have seen her works. They were much well-written than mine. She just lacked confidence at that part. I guess everybody lacked something…

“Here you gooooo.” Joey dragged her voice as though she was singing. She brought out a cup of coffee to me. As she handed it to me, she sat down beside me and began to answer my question.

“Yeah-” She wanted to say.

“Hey that was supposed to be rhetorical.” I smirked.

“I understand. You just cared for me. I didn’t blame you, just to make sure in case he was some creepy stalker.” I retorted wittily, adding more to the witty response she never had expected. Or at least I think she would never have expected it.

“Ah! Best Friend!” she squealed and pulled me into a tight hug.

I told you so.