The Makeover

17 | The nerd and the jerk

**
Chapter Seventeen | The nerd and the jerk

"Everything."

"Everything."

"Everything. Everything." The words lingered and repeated themselves in the air like a mantra.

There was no rewind button. I couldn't unsay them.

This was the very twenty-fifth time they had repeated themselves in my head, or maybe the twenty-sixth, I was too busy regretting my choices of words to keep an accurate count. At least this time, the head cramps didn't show up. Yet.

Like a turban-headed genie from a bottle to grant me my wish of magically disappearing from the total awkwardness I had just lapsed us into, from the corner of my eyes, I caught sight of two waiters making their ways over to our booth.

Only now, as I hoped, their costumes weren't started off with a pair of baggy silky pants and red silk shirts revealing their midriffs, mysterious headbands with veils, large gold bracelets, large, golden earrings and bangles, and of course, they didn't have long straight trimmed beards. Funny enough, they would've been called Sincity Genies.

What was I thinking? That I'm in an Arabian Night movie?

My eyes followed them as they approached us and only then did I know one of them was actually Isela. She was wearing a classic waiter dress with a little bit more spice. Something her style. A leather pinafore and the traditional white shirt underneath with black socks that reached up to her knees, and black flats.

As they finally walked over to us, Isela's eyes careered to mine as she slowly lowered the dish to the table with her flowery-glove covered hands. She winked and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and playfully, making her nose bend teasingly in a retorted manner. How dare she tease me now!

I folded my arms across my chest and began to glower at her, raising one of my eyebrows. "What?" She mouthed and pouted, turning to the side to take the considerably large glass cup of drink from the other waiter who accompanied her.

Deciding that the excessively bright, blinding lighted description right above our heads that comprised the words, 'The Nerd and The Jerk'  as bold as brass, like it was a coupon to embarrass me was answer enough, I nodded my head toward it.

"Oh." She mouthed again and slid her eyelids shut in amusement, grinning widely without any hint of remorse radiating off her in the slightest.

"YOU'RE SO DEAD, ISELA MATTHEWS!" I mouthed back with such intensity that I could have blatantly assumed would shake up the table and draw everyone's attention to me. But unusually, my assumptions were wrong.

She froze in place, dropping the cutleries hastily, feigning fear and shock, but still grinning widely.  She did her famous mischievious wink that could get you admitting something that is or isn't entirely true but you do not want to  assent to. Don't give me that look, I'm not necessarily talking from experience.

"Be my guest." The nine-tailed, pinafore wearing devil incarnate mouthed for the last time and I rolled my eyes before they darted over to the dishes and then they flick-flacked and shot up like chinese fireworks. I looked at the dishes and back at Haze. No one seemed to notice that something was up..It wasn't down.

Ignore that last remark. It was out of anxiety.

The straws. They were red, very red and perfectly carved and they were double, etched across in the middle,together. Do not miss the emphasis on the word together. Joint. Collective; to a perfect, once again, very red heart, immersing the filtzy wine-red drink in a nice, fruity scenting oozy eddy pattern.