6:59 (27 page)

Anjolie

I sat at the kitchen table, tugging at my curly locks, waiting for the doorbell to chime. My heart was racing for unknown reasons, yet I felt unbearably calm. I was going shopping with Hudson and Armando today — their treat — and I had no idea how to feel. I was excited to replenish my wardrobe, yet nervous about hanging out with them; happy to gain new friends, yet anxious about doing so. Basically, I was a wreck.

Sighing, I whipped out my phone to cancel the whole thing. Shopping and friends and, well, happiness just didn't agree with me. I had to end it.

But just as I was about to punch in Hudson's number, the doorbell rang, startling me.

Crap, they were here.

I quickly slid off the kitchen stool and headed cautiously toward the front door. Raking a shaky hand through my tangled hair, I pulled open the door.

“Hi, angel!” Hudson cried out, immediately crossing her thin arms around my neck and pulling me into an impromptu hug. She smelled like vanilla and honey. “Are you outrageously excited for our major shopping spree?” She smiled at me with a bright row of dazzling white teeth. Armando embraced me as well.

I cleared my throat and smiled. “Uh, yeah, sure,” I said meekly, allowing my eyes to travel up Armando's tall, muscular frame and lock onto his pale, amber eyes. When he returned my smile, his tan skin glowing in the afternoon sun, I decided that God, himself, was probably jealous of Armando's amazingly good looks.

“Awesome!” Hudson shrieked, clapping her brown hands together. Then, looping an arm through mine, she pulled me out of the house and onto the porch, tugging me toward Armando's expensive convertible. Her silver, mile-high, platform heels were a stark contrast to my pale, white sneakers, and her flashy dress made my plain, white, t-shirt and gray jeans look like child's play. I suddenly felt my self-esteem plummet to an all-time low. Hudson was just too pretty.

When we arrived at the car, Armando opened the door for me as Hudson hopped into the passenger seat. It wasn't long before we pulled away from the curb and began heading toward the nearest mall. During the whole ride there, Hudson couldn't stop raving about how much fun we were going to have. She made comments about new shoes, new dresses, accessories, and all sorts of designer accoutrements that were “in style.” Frankly, I was just after anything with color.

“I don't care if I have to buy you the mall, honey,” Hudson said, spinning around in her seat to face me. “You need a completely new wardrobe anyways, so my money is going to be well spent, my friend.” Her bright smile agreed with the statement.

Armando scoffed. “Don't you mean
my
money, sweetie?” he asked, his eyes on the road as a small smile crept upon his lips.

Hudson thwapped his shoulder teasingly. “Whatever, Mannie” was her dismissive reply.

But I was anything but dismissive.
Armando
was buying me clothes? How did that happen? When did I ever mean anything to him enough for him to spend money on
me
, a random girl that lives in a bad neighborhood? This was all too bizarre.

I didn't have much time to contemplate any other questions. We were at the mall, then, and Hudson and Armando were already hopping out of the car. I quickly joined them on the asphalt, trotting to catch up with their fast “mall walk” paces.

“Normally, I'd take you to those fancy designer stores that I always go to,” Hudson was saying, her fingers flying over her phone as she texted rapidly, “but since the average girl has an average budget, I'm going to take you to average stores.” She ceased her texting in order to open up the mall doors and grasp onto Armando's hand. “But that doesn't mean that I'm going to
spend
like an average girl.” She smiled and winked at Armando, who rolled his eyes with feigned annoyance but returned her smile, his eyes going soft as he stared lovingly at his girlfriend. I could tell that he loved to treat a girl — especially Hudson — no matter how much that treat costs.

As we walked — well,
I
sorta trotted because their paces were insanely fast — we passed many stores that lined the left and right spaces of the mall. I didn't even have time to read any of the store signs, we were walking that fast.

It took me by surprise when Hudson suddenly veered into a clothing store, causing me slide to a severely dangerous halt. “This one looks okay-ish,” she said curiously as she slowed her pace and scanned the store. Armando and I hovered behind her, not really sure what to look for; Hudson was on a mission — alone — and we tried our best not to disturb her.

Soon, Hudson was tossing hanger after hanger of clothing at me, each action following after her words, “Try this on!” I was slowly getting buried under a pile of frilly clothing, struggling beneath the weight.

It was Armando who rescued me from the burden, his strong arms grasping up the load and tossing the clothing over his shoulder. He flicked the back of Hudson's oblivious head, saying, “Cool it with clothing. You're killing her here.” He jabbed a thumb in my direction, coupling the gesture with an apologetic smile. I shot him with a shrug of nonchalance, grateful for his kindness.

But Hudson was growing impatient. “Well, hurry up and try them on, Anjolie,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We've got hundreds of other stops after this.” And with that, she grabbed my hand and led me back to the dressing rooms.

It went on like that for hours, the three of us moving in clockwork rhythms, fulfilling a mission that could only produce good outcomes. We would run to each store, grab a gazillion outfits, I'd have to try them on, and Hudson would buy them all, regardless if I liked them or not. “Variety” was a word that became very ubiquitous in her speech, especially when I complained about the importance of having two pairs of identical shoes, each a different color. The whole experience was chaotic.

At around mid-afternoon, we stopped at the food court to “regroup,” as Hudson would like to call it. I was exhausted, Armando was exhausted, and Hudson was, well, determined. She was not yet satisfied with the bulk of my new wardrobe, complaining that it was too small and that a girl could go through all the clothes in less than a hundred days.

“I could always wear them again,” I offered, shrugging my shoulders with confusion. Did she think that I would just
throw away
an outfit after wearing it?

Hudson peered at me with wide eyes, her mouth gaping. “And why would you do that?” she asked, dumbfounded. Apparently she thought just that.

“Why wouldn't I do that?” I retorted, sipping my soda.

Hudson looked back and forth between me and Armando, completely shocked with my suggestion. “Because the clothes will get
dirty
and
worn
,” she said, speaking each word slowly as if she were trying to explain common knowledge to a four-year-old.

Armando chuckled, kissing her bare shoulder and smiling sweetly at her. “But, honey, that's why they invented washers and dryers,” he said, rolling his eyes. He looked at me and gave me a private smile, the two of us sharing a mutual tolerance for Hudson's ignorance.

Hudson shuddered with disgust, her shoulders wiggling around as if she were shaking off imaginary dirt. “That's still disgusting. Girls shouldn't have to wear the same clothes over again. Not on my watch,” she said, whipping out her phone and texting. “Hurry up; we've got a lot more stores after this.” She grabbed up her
latte
, finished her drink, and stood up, indicating that we should follow.

We stood up, threw away our trash, and left the food court, continuing our self-proclaimed mission. Sighing, I realized that at least this mission didn't involve blood.

****

Hudson's unbearably loud shriek was loud enough to capture the attention of absolutely everyone in the mall. Frenetically, I quickly clamped my hand down over her mouth, silencing both her and my growing embarrassment. “
Quiet
, Hudson! Geez!” I whispered harshly, completely aware of the thousands of pairs of eyes that were burning holes through our clothing. I swear, Hudson's shriek could have woken the dead. Seriously.

Hudson just stared at me with wide eyes as Armando soothed the worried crowd and diverted their attention elsewhere. But by the lack of blush on his tan cheeks, I could tell that Hudson's outcries were probably common to him, realizing that she most likely displayed embarrassing behavior on a usual day-to-day basis.

When all attention was diminished, I carefully removed my hand away from Hudson's mouth. “Wait! Don't—!” Armando cried, but was soon interrupted by yet another one of Hudson's blood-curdling shrieks, this one incredibly louder than the first. Now everyone was back to us, inquiring noisily about the cause of Hudson's screaming. Some guy even threatened to call the police.

“It's alright, everyone!” Armando called out over the loud raucous flowing out from the crowd. “She is perfectly fine! She's just having a nervous breakdown!” His last words were cut off by the crowd as they angrily displayed their aggravation over this noisy customer, marching closer to us and surrounding us closely. Several people were already on their phones, gabbing angrily to who-knows-who. “Please excuse her, everyone! She is very—”

Armando was cut off yet again by not only the loud, angry crowd, but also by
another
one of Hudson's shrilly screams. This one was even louder than the first two, even
with
my hand clamped down over her mouth. When someone yelled, “Put a sock in it!” I contemplated doing just that.

Armando tried to silence her as well, pleading her to stop, as well as shoving away super-close angry-mob members. Soon,
mall cops
began making their appearances. Armando's eyes widened with fear as they drew nearer. “It's okay, everyone!” Armando yelled again, his Spanish accent weaving into his distressed words. “She will not scream again! She is fine!” He quickly grabbed Hudson's wrist and began making his way through the irritated crowd, headed for the nearest exit. “Don't worry, we're leaving!” he yelled out during his hasty march. The angry mob yelled after him, some even throwing miscellaneous objects. Armando tried to dodge each item — though many came in contact with his back. “I apologize for the disturbance!” he called out lastly, his eyes full of remorse as he raced for the doors.

I quickly followed after his hurried pace, not wanting to be the brunt of the citizens' annoyed words and flying objects. It felt like eons before we finally emerged out of the mall, coming to a stop in front of the large doors. It was dark outside now, indicating that we had officially spent at least seven hours in the mall.

Armando threw down the many shopping bags, the clothing crashing loudly to the concrete sidewalk. He grabbed onto Hudson's shoulders and shook her gently, yet firmly, his stern eyes peering into hers. “Why. In. The.
World
. Would. You. Do. That?” he asked, each word producing an even bigger punch than the last.

Hudson just stared at him innocently, the look of pure horror still grazing her pretty features. “Anjolie just told me that she hasn't bought her homecoming dress yet,” she said, her words just barely over a whisper. Her eyes widened with even more shock, making her appear as if she had just seen a ghost.

Groaning loudly, Armando quickly covered his face with his hands, yelling out Spanish curse words and other arrays of words without taking a single breath. By the way he was frantically waving his arms around — his eyes wild with menace — it was as if he were furiously chanting angry spells, his words quick and harsh. I could only stare disbelievingly at him, realizing that this was the first time I'd ever seen him
angry
.

Ignoring Armando's fitful tantrum, Hudson turned her back to him and looked at me in astonishment. “I cannot believe that you haven't bought your homecoming dress yet!” she cried, completely oblivious to Armando's frantic motions going on behind her back. “You're on Homecoming court! You should've bought your dress the day you found out!”

I shrugged innocently, not really knowing how to respond. I was still in shock, watching as Armando marched around like a madman, yelling and spitting out angry Spanish words at the top of his lungs. The
Tasmanian Devil
had nothing on him right about now.

Hudson sighed and tossed her long, chestnut hair over her shoulder, whipping out her phone and texting rapidly. “We
have
to get you a dress, Anj,” she said, her eyes not leaving the screen of her phone. “This time, we'll go to one of my mom's good friend's stores. She sells the
best
dresses known to man.” She quickly shut her phone and shoved it into her purse. “We'll go tonight!” she said smiling excitedly.

I nodded slowly, my eyes still fixated on Armando's tantrum. “Um… aren't you worried about Armando?” I asked, nodding my head in his direction. He was pounding on the walls and yanking at his hair, his hands rolled up in tight fists as he continued yelling out indistinguishable words.

Hudson just rolled her eyes. “Don't worry, he'll get over it,” was her nonchalant reply as she marched over to him, kissed his lips hastily — the action shutting him up completely — grabbed his wrist, and led him to the car. Once again, I was left following after them, trying to keep up with these strangely weird, semi-annoying, super cool people.

****

At around midnight, I returned home, my hands full of shopping bags, my limbs exhausted, my thoughts running wild.

Today was such a hectic day for me, even more hectic than several of my deadly missions combined. But strangely enough, it was one of the best days of my life. Not because I now have enough clothes to open a small store, and not because I finally got to get out of the house, but because I genuinely had fun. More fun than I've ever had in a long time. Hudson and Armando had to be the best company anyone could ever have. They were funny, witty, entertaining, and knew how to make any situation memorable. I hadn't laughed that much since I was with Cameron the other day.

After Hudson's “nervous breakdown” and Armando's “temper tantrum,” we went to the dress shop and managed to buy a four thousand dollar dress, Hudson's treat this time. It was a long, floor length, cherry red, strapless dress that was covered in crystal beading and cinched at the waist, hugging my curves all the way to mid-thigh where it flared out, revealing the white lacey fabric that flowed out in billows over the floor. The dress was so long; Hudson demanded that I wear the silver, five-inch, strappy stilettos that she'd been eyeing for herself since she'd gotten there. I immediately fell in love with the dress, dubbing it as my favorite article of clothing among the bunch because it was so bright, so elegant, and so beautiful. And I knew that upon first glance, Cameron would love it, too.

The warm thoughts of him took over my mind as I imagined the look on his face when he saw me in this dress. I immediately grew giddy with anticipation, wishing that Homecoming were tomorrow and not next week. I even contemplated wearing it to the picnic tomorrow that Hudson and Armando invited us both to, but decided against it. Olive would be there, and I'm pretty sure that if she witnessed Cameron drooling all over me, she would have both our heads. Not that I was afraid of her, or anything. I just didn't want to see Cameron dead, is all.