I was livid. No, I was beyond that. I was every word for “irate” in the thesaurus. The kind of anger where you see spots and try to blow things up with your eyes. My skin itched and felt hot under my jean jacket, which reminded me that practically nobody wore jean jackets anymore, which made me even angrier that I was the one still wearing them.
The reason for such internal suffering? A simple broken promise. I try very hard to keep to my word and leave nothing undone. In return, I expect the same of my friends. There are exceptions, of course, because I’m not a tyrant like the men who terrorized most of my foreign ancestors. Still, I generally hold people responsible for their end of the deal. And the deal was, Asia promised me a whole afternoon of being my shopping consultant. It was her idea, based heavily on the fact that my style was three years behind everyone else’s. We were supposed to hit every fashion outlet in town, starting right after last period and ending when my paranoid mother chased us down in her van. (Or called the cops, whichever came first.) But according to my watch, which admittedly is five minutes fast, it was half an hour past the last bell, and we were still in the senior hallway.
Asia was passionately hugging Andrew, her boyfriend of two months. I looked away while they snuggled against the lockers and rub noses. Unfortunately, it was harder to ignore their puppy voices, giving each other detailed descriptions of their day, promising time and again that they would call later. After the first five minutes, I was starting to get impatient, but being that Asia is my boy-rabid best friend, I allowed her a little more time. At ten minutes, I was starting to get uncomfortable. Twenty, and I was debating whether or not to grab the back of Asia’s top and drag her away. When I noticed that it was over thirty minutes, I was bordering on insanity. I despised PDA, the way I despised romance on a whole.
When I heard “Just one more kiss,” for the umpteenth time, I lost it.
“For the love of God, just stop!” I swung my purse and knocked it against Asia’s ponytail. She immediately broke away from Andrew to make sure her hair was still perfect. Asia was a sweetheart, to be sure, but she was still superficial.
“Sorry, Dawn.” Andrew looked sheepish. Had he even realized I was still there? I liked Andrew a lot, but sometimes his vacant manner…well, he and Asia were made for each other.
Asia looked less forgiving. She narrowed her eyes at me, displaying warning slices of green that meant I was in trouble. As if she didn’t see any problem with making me wait for her to finish canoodling with her boyfriend. Applesauce. She knew darn well that I didn’t like to see that sort of thing. I wasn’t that comfortable talking to guys, let alone watch her make out with them.
“Can we just go? You know my mom’s not going to let me stay out that late.” I folded my arms tightly. People always thought I was being defensive when I did that, but really I was just comfortable in that position. Although, I guess I’m comfortable being on the defense sometimes…
“Okay, okay.” Asia turned back to Andrew and gave him a quick kiss. “See ya, sugarpie.” She gave a little wave as he walked away, then pulled me down the hall.
. “Geez, Dawn. Heartless, much? I only get to see him during lunch, and I see you…”
“All the frickin’ time, I’m well aware. That’s not the point. You were late.” I stabbed my finger into her shoulder. She angled away from me and gaped.
“Late? You were standing right with me!”
“No, Asia, I was standing right with a mass of tangled lips.”
“That’s kind of gross.”
“Try watching it! I felt like I was going to throw up! Throw up, or punch somebody. Possibly even kill.”
“Oh, not with the death threats again…Dawn, if people really knew what you were really like, you’d probably end up in a mental institute.” Asia shook her head, giving me a meaningful side glance.
I grinned, feeling my anger slowly slip away. “Isn’t it a scary thought that one day, I really will be in a mental institute? As the professional help?” I had known for years that I was going to be a psychologist. All I needed was the college degree, and I was good to go. After a little anger management, anyway.
