Almost You

Accidents (Part One)

Chapter 27

Accidents (Part One)

*Unknown P.O.V*

2 HOURS EARLIER

I watched them from a distance, giggling and chatting while sucking back mochas. Those bitches, I wasn't quite sure why I was even doing this.

I was hidden behind the cashier counter, the employees not even noticing me with their tired eyes and bored, teenaged expression.

Those damn girls laughed some more, making my teeth clentch with anger. A stupid elderly couple beside them angery shused them. Yay, go old people!

The girls shared a bemused expression before scrambling their stuff and walking out the door. I hissed, trying to find a way out of this hiding spot with out being spotted.

I snuck out from between the counters, my hips nearly getting stuck. I walked quickly and casually out of the door, pulling my ball cap further down my face, incase Sophie, or as I like to call her, that little bitch, wouldn't reconise me. I hope she didn't reconise my beautiful face or flawless hair, well I mean, it was hard to forget such beauty as mine.

That little bitch's friend dragged her into a shop, and I walked as casually as I could to follow her. Hiding in here should be easier.

She flipped through racks of dresses, and I skillfully ducked my head so she couldn't see me. I pretended to look through the rack behind her.

They chatted, her friend picking out many outfits and throwing a dress at her. Ha, that dress wouldn't even look good on her.

I grabbed a random dress, and ran into the change room beside her. Finally, I would be able to look at myself in a mirror and listen to their conversation.

They talked loudly to each other, which made it easy to eavesdrop on their conversation. Jeez this girl was so annoying. How did she ever manage to get any friends or Ryan? What a dummy.

I lifted my sunglasses off my face and examined my make up.

Holy f*cking f*ck! My mascarra had smugded from laying on the flithly floor. I couldn't believe I was sacraficing my beauty to spy on some low-life bitch. She didn't deserve him. He was mine.

I pulled the mascara from my ugly disguise sweater and touched it up. This was the reason why I carried make up in my pockets!

I tucked my long hair into my cap, tucking in loose strands. I slid on the sunglasses, the girls talking about the last outfit.

I stood om my tiptoes, prying to see what was happening. That little selfish bitch (I added a noun to her nickname, creative aren't I?) was stepping into her friends change room. I took out my crappy phone and snapped a silent picture. I felt like a professional ninja.