Hi again! We're back. Sorry it took so long-that is probably largely my fault. Blame biology homework and the fact that I've spent the past week and a half sidetracked by watching Community. But mostly biology.
but then a lot of nice things turn bad out there
With all the drama between Tori and André and Jade and I, I know today won't be a day to stay after school like usual for my extra acting lessons. As I exited the school, I have the sudden craving for something sweet.
I haven't had ice cream since my last anniversary with Jade, over nine months ago—ice cream shops were kind of sacred to us—and I hope the creamy deliciousness will take my mind off everything for a little while. I get in my new Maserati and drive the few blocks down to the Milky Princess stand near Boulevard Park.
Only a small part of me notices the beauty of the clerk near the stand. The rest of me is focused entirely on how oddly familiar she looks. It's not surprising, of course, considering she does work right near Hollywood Arts, at a place I'd been to dozens of times before…but still, I can't shake the feeling she looks familiar for a reason. She has long, crimped blonde hair and glittery eyeshadow.
"Hey," she says lightly, flirtily, when I approach. "What can I get ya?"
I pretend to study the menu for another moment. "Uh, yeah, can I get a cake batter in a sugar cone with sprinkles and gummy bears?" I honestly don't know why gummy bears. I don't get them normally.
"Sure thing, sweetie pie," she says, winking, and I try to hide my complete and utter disgust, grateful not for the first time for all my acting classes. I hate it when girls call their boyfriends, friends, or especially complete strangers things like "sweetie pie." Seriously, if you're going to call someone "sweetie" or "honey," you better be someone's grandma. And even then, reserve it for your grandchild.
Her shirt's pulled as low as it physically can be, lower than her manager probably would like (I am looking at her nametag. Really. I like to know people's names. Hers is Alicyn, in case you were wondering), and her sluttiness is a huge turn-off for me. I don't go for "easy" girls. Easy's boring. And kind of disgusting.
She reappears at the window a moment later with my ice cream. "Here you go," she says, leaning forward and squeezing her boobs out with her arms. Jeez, pull your shirt up, it won't kill you. She turns the cone in such a way so that I can see she's written her phone number on the paper. I pay, turn, and purposely peel the paper off and throw it away first thing. If she saw me, great; if she didn't, I don't really care.
And suddenly, it struck me why Alicyn looked so familiar. A flood of memories came rushing back of a day Jade and I had come here—the last time we had come here, as a matter of fact. Jade was really starting to get to me. The whole purpose of leaving school early had been to get away from the drama with Jade, but as I got to thinking, I could've gone to a different ice cream place with a different blonde waitress—one who didn't look hauntingly familiar, one who wasn't the very girl Jade had once gotten mad at because she thought the girl had been flirting with me.
And just when I told myself I was officially done thinking about Jade, at least for now, there she was, storming away with tears in her eyes.
Just then I got a text from André.
I'm screwed when it comes to Tori. I'm running and I can't find her.
Me and André, we're in the same boat.
I consider running after Jade, telling her that it was all a stupid misunderstanding, that I didn't like slutty Alicyn. Another part of me says that Jade and I aren't dating anymore, so it doesn't matter; I'm free to date whoever I want to date. I walk toward my car (and the general direction Jade went, hoping I might making up my mind by the time I got there), but when I do, she's gone.
I have a no-messy-foods-in-the-car policy, at least for now, since come on, it's new and it's a pretty damn good car. I don't mind something like a granola bar or a cup of coffee, but ice cream is a huge no-no, especially in this weather. So I just lean against the hood and observe the people walking by.
Another text from André arrives. Where are you?
I use my non-sticky hand to type out At the Milky Princess with one finger. A couple of minutes later he shows up.