“I can do this!”
“I can do this!”
A pair of wide, diamond-shaped eyes stared back from the rearview mirror. The outside corners elongated with black eyeliner and the well-defined arched eyebrows reflected determination.
“I can do this!”
Deep inhale.
“So, I will!”
Kara shifted her gaze to the passenger seat, where she had thrown the gift box earlier. She detached her clenched fingers from the wheel and picked up the card on top.
“Thanks for coming!”
Then picked up the slippery cloth, hesitating, and twitched at the sight of the long wine-colored dress with one-shoulder and asymmetrical side slit.
“No, I can’t do this!” abruptly throwing it back in the box and immediately going for the handbrake, feet rigid on the pedals.
“Hey, pick up the phone when I call you! Do you hear me?! I know you’re there... I’m not hanging up till’ you dooo... Still waiting... Still waiting...’
For some reason that stupid ringtone always made her feel guilty when about to dodge Amy’s calls. It was precisely what Amy was counting on when she recorded that voice message and set it as a ringtone for her number.
“I didn’t ditch your calls. I was just busy.”
“I don’t want to hear about it, I’m your only friend, for God’s sake! You don’t have any excuses! You never called back, either! What if it was something serious?”
“Like when you broke your high heel while on a date?”
That hurt expression on Amy’s face was enough to make her regret her words …and the pillow that followed.
“I’m sorry, I was honestly busy. I promise I’ll answer all your calls from now on.”
“Give me that phone! I have to make sure you
will keep your promise!”
“Kara, where are you? You’re late!” the angry voice from the speakers made her sink into her boots.
“Well, I just ...”
“You better get your ass here right now!”
“Well, you see ...”
“Please...” The sudden change of tone was even worse. She could handle an angry Amy, but not a whining one. “I really want you to meet him. Please...” in tiny.
Sh!t, that guilt psychology crap was working great on her. And Amy knew it!
“Fine, I’ll be there in five,” she agreed with a dull voice, aware she didn't have the strength to go against this kind of Amy.
“Oh, ok then. See you in five.” Of course, Amy was now all giggly, like a happy kid who got its candy.
“Crap, now what?!”
She took another glimpse at her reflection, hoping to receive an answer. But those eyes were glassier than the mirror. Then, another hardened look at the dress.
“Ah, f#ck it! I’m not wearing that sh!t!”
Pulled back up the handbrake, killed the engine, and stormed out, slamming the door. She stopped in front of her small white car, took another deep breath, strengthened her shoulders, pushing an errant strand of hair behind the ear, and exhaled abruptly:
“I got this!”
The parking lot was fuller than ever. The recent loosening of Covid restrictions and the warm weather gave people the opportunity to revive some pre-pandemic habits, like hanging out at the Mall on Sundays. Out of all places, this is where Amy decided to hold the reunion! The stupid class reunion… nothing but a chance for a bunch of idiots to show off their perfect marriages they can’t handle, and their fancy cars they can’t afford, but still buy, because the only way to feel successful is by making others feel like losers.
She was speeding up on the sidewalk, near the building, in the fading light of the evening, when a group of excessively loud teenagers, of rrom ethnicity, coming her way, drew her attention. They were cracking jokes, laughing around with exaggerated hand gestures, spreading trouble vibes from a mile away.
A few meters in front of her, a small build girl, in a tight mini skirt, was just about to pass them by.
“Uuu, what a hottie!”
Of course, they would do that... The poor girl, feeling all their eyes pointed at her, stepped aside, sprinted up, managing to avoid them. But one of them skinny jerks, in a tank top and ripped jeans, stayed behind and, acting all cool, closed in on her, sneaking his hand on her butt, like the filthy worm he was.
“Hey!” the girl jumped. But, at the sight of the whole gang packed up, she just turned away hopelessly, as they were cracking up even louder than before, cheering for the scumbag dude, who was now walking like a champion, full of confidence, with a long smirk across his face. Five seconds later, he was squished against the wall, screaming his heart out, with his arm twisted to his back.
“Say you will never touch a woman’s butt like a lousy worm you are,” Kara gurgled in his ear.
The others gathered around, but none of them had the guts to come too close.
“Hey, let him go, old lady! We’ll call the police!”
“I AM the police,” she shouted loud enough for everyone to hear, “and you should be thankful I have to be somewhere in two minutes, otherwise I would’ve arrested you and your friend here for sexual harassment! But I’m willing to let you go this time,” she continued, turning back to the douchebag, twisting his arm even harder, “if you’ll say you’ll never touch a woman’s butt like a lousy worm you are.”
“Ok, I swear! I swear!” rashly came the answer.
“Say ‘I will never touch a woman’s butt like a lousy worm!’” she repeated, enunciating every syllable.
“I...I...I…I will neveeeer touch aaaaa womaaaaaaan’s butt like aaaaaa lousy worm,” the words barely made it out between breaks of screams.
“Here’s collateral for your promise,” and an even wilder scream broke, along with his wrist.
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