Fear Me P.JM

🌼Mask🌼

(What her hair looks like👆🏽👆🏽)

🌼

Not bad. Not bad at all.

My hair is free from the braids, I decided to go natural for the winter ball. Abna helped me.

My nails are painted with marshmallow-white tips. Abna helped me with that too.

I have on gold-colored earrings to match my dress. I put those on myself.

Oh yes. And I'm starving. I hope it's not too obvious.

When Abna came over earlier this morning, she nearly grabbed the pan I was using to smack me.

"What do you think you're doing!" Abna said, pulling my spatula away.

And that irritated me. I'm rarely irritated.

"I'm making an omelet," I spat grabbing my spatula back.

Abna then turned off the heat to the stove.

"No!" she said loudly. "You can't eat!"

I gasped forgetting my rising anger.

"Why?" I pointed at my omelet. "It's egg-white, see..." I smiled sheepishly.

Abna sighed. She then explained to me about how the salt I used in the omelet would cause me to bloat and then I'd feel horrible and look even worse in my Winter Ball dress. She also said we were fasting for the day and would only be drinking water.

So...now I'm starving...but I fit into my dress.

Then again, I fit just fine into my dress when I was trying it on after drinking three bowls of soup and eating two sandwiches. But somehow I think Abna is going to try to smack me again if I say that to her. So until then, shhhh.

"Andrea," I say to my goldfish on my desk. "How do I look?"

Andrea stares at me with her big unblinking eyes.

I smile happily. "Yeahhhhh, I look gooooood."

The doorbell rings and I go get it. It's probably JB. I falter in my step recalling yesterday. There's no way JB could actually like me. And I'm not saying that because some people preach about how best friends make the best couples and all that fluff. No, rather it's because I know JB.

JB and I have been neighbors since I was in the womb. We're womb buddies. Seriously.

Before I existed, my parents opened a large store downtown called Forina that sells practically every kind of cookware possible. One day, JB's parents, who were korean chefs discovered my parents' store and through frequent visiting, they became really good friends.

They then became neighbors, got busy in their own way, and JB and I soon came to be. Womb buddies I tell you!

So I know JB as if he were my older brother...even though I'm older by three months. And one of the many things I know about him confidently is this: JB has never truly liked someone before in his life.

He'll tell me outright who he thinks is hot, ugly, fine, fugly, but it never really goes much deeper than that. He'll date, but simply for the fun of it. He'll flirt for the attention, and break girls' hearts without meaning to because he can't find the feeling they want out of him.

I know JB like I know how to grill a burger. And man, I can grill a mean burger.

I open the door a slit and JB smiles and pushes his way in.

"Look at you!" he says laughing. "All dressed up. No braids?"

"Nope," I say spinning around.

I look at JB in his suit. It looks really nice. Except...for that hat. It looks like Peter Pan's hat.