Lila Pham works at one of the busiest nail salons in the city; with business booming out of proportion and her fear of her friends and fellow classmates discovering her location of work is at bay, all seems to be going well.
Except for the fact tha...
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"Look at that bitch,"
Raelynn took a bite out of her apple, passively glaring at the table featuring three senior students. Her ocean eyes not once moved off of the girl—the primarily reason for her agitated mood—as she watches the girl's every move. How she spoke, how she pose, and how she reacted to Kenji and Beckham besides her.
"She has a name, you know," Aubree said without looking up from her phone, her eyes glue to the white screen. "It's Valerie. Valerie Martinez."
"Do I look like I give a goddamn fuck about some girl name Valerie Martinez?" Raelynn snaps, her eyes vivid as she drops the apple back onto her tray. Aubree didn't react to Raelynn's words too harshly; knowing our best friend has a tendency to snap during her mood changes. Especially when it dealt with boys.
"You kinda do," Naomi insists, leaning against the table. "I mean, you're watching her like a hawk—" Raelynn shot Naomi a glare, and she quiets down. Naomi pulls herself back against the plastic seat and raising both hands in surrender. "I'm just saying."
"I'm not looking at her like a hawk, I'm just—" she sighs, her eyes soften from their vicious state. "Why doesn't he do that with us?"
I twist around in my seat, following my eyes from the curly-haired girl, to the raven-haired boy, to the golden boy. Kenji had whispered something into Valerie's ear, causing her to soften her hard exterior and peak out a small chuckle and a smile. She shakes her head to something, her black curly hair flowing across her shoulders, just as Beckham joins in to say something I couldn't read. She shoves him off in retaliation. Beckham suddenly dying of laughter.
"They knew each other first," I mumble, trying to retain my own jealousy. Beckham told us that he was going to be sitting with Valerie and Kenji every other week, and slipping into our table every other week then. One, two, one, two. He's getting the best of both worlds.
But it didn't help that it felt like Beckham was flirting with me during the soccer game and now he's comfortable with Valerie herself, I wondered if I overthink his actions. Maybe that's how they act in New York—casual, clear, and extremely flirty.
"Of course he wants to talk to her." I announce, turning back to Raelynn. Her eyes switching back and forth from the table behind me to meet mine.
"What does she have that we don't? Huh?" Raelynn cross her arms against her chest, blowing a strand of brown hair that strayed from her ponytail. "I mean, look at her and look at us. She's some sort of gang member with all those tattoos. We're perfectly good students. I don't understand what makes her a better fit to be his friend than us."
"Raelynn." Aubree sighs, closing her phone as she sets it face down on the table. "He's just a boy; don't get so worked up about it."
"It's not that!" Raelynn dramatically threw her hands in the air, leaning back against the seat as she slouch her shoulders. "I'm just saying that she isn't good for him. I mean look at him and look at her. Tattoo-filled Mexican who wears shirts so tight that it can practically see her boobs peaking out. I mean, they're so big. They got to be a push-up bra or something, right?" Raelynn looks between Valerie between returning back to her own chest. "Is that why he likes her?"
