Chapter 24|Violence is not the answer

"Tell me if I'm hurting you."

"You're hurting me."

"Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate."

"Wow, I feel so loved."

"Good to hear it. Don't blink or I'll stab your eyeball out."

"Violence is not the answer," I warned.

She shrugged. "Depends on what the question is."

"Well aren't you just in a delightful mood."

"Putting makeup on people with ADHD tends to do that to me."

I gasped. "I do not have ADHD."

"Then keep your ass still!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

I sighed irritatedly. "Please tell me you're almost done."

"I'm almost done."

"Really?"

"No."

"I'm going to punch you on the boob soon," I warned.

"Unless you want me to draw a black line down your face I would probably refrain from doing that," Tara said, placing the dangerous object back on her dresser and picking up a less sinister looking item.

She turned around, revealing the object. It was red and...oh my god, the horror!

"Get that away from me!" I shrieked, putting my hands up to shield my face.

Tara giggled. "I was kidding." She discarded the stick of red animal fat, picking up something a little more normal. A tube of clear liquid.

She smeared the sticky translucent goo over my lips, leaving my top lip stuck to my bottom one when she was done.

"Now are we done?" I asked with pleading eyes.

"Yes," she said, disappearing into her closet for a moment, returning with two dresses of different colours. One white and one blue.

"Here," she said, holding out the blue material for me to claim. I accepted it, running my fingers along the sheer fabric. It reminded me of a waterfall, the way it flowed right to the ground without interruption. Or maybe it's just because it was blue. I don't know.

Tara pushed me into her bathroom with my dress, ordering me to change. I did a double take as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair had been twisted into loose curls which draped over my shoulders, while an intricate braid swept from one side of my head to the other, creating the effect that I was wearing a crown.

I forced my face closer to the mirror, wiggling one eyebrow. The stranger in the mirror copied. I frowned, so did the reflection. I shrugged, must be me then.

I stepped into the dress, yanking it over my butt and pulling the straps onto my shoulders. It was unnerving because every time I glanced in the direction of the mirror I would see this person who didn't look like me, watching me change. Obviously I knew it was actually me, I'm not stupid enough to think that someone can actually be inside a mirror. But then there's Snow White and Beauty And The Beast. My inner child refuses to let me accept the fact that mirrors can't talk or show you the future, but when it comes to your future would you really want to see it? Would you really want to know how you die, or worse, see who marries your crush? I don't think so. Anyways, back to mirrors. They are very useful. Maybe I should take a leaf out if Perseus's book and kill someone with one. Probably not such a great idea. Considering it was Medusa he killed, I think I'll leave the mirror voodoo to him and stick to trying not to fail algebra.

I yanked on the zipper, pulling it upward so the dress was now tightly secured around my torso. I attached silver earrings in the shape of teardrops to my earlobes. I'd been given them for my fifteenth birthday and never worn them, I guess now was as good a time as any to wear them.

"Girl hurry up!" Tara yelled through the door, abruptly bashing the wooden structure.

"Keep your dress on," I mumbled quietly, clasping a silver bracelet around my wrist. I admired the way it sparkled as the light hit it, creating rainbow patterns on the walls and ceiling of the bathroom. Tara was lucky with that kind of thing, it was her bracelet after all, and considering her mom designed jewellery for a living I don't think the particular piece I was wearing was too special to her. Tara was used to the finer things in life; she had clothes for Africa, designer clothes I might add. Her bedroom was probably the same size as my living room and that's not taking into account her bathroom and walk in closet, and there was no way her family had ever been or would ever be short on money. She didn't like to flaunt her money like some people did, which is one of the things I admired about her. I mean, Tara could easily fit in with the popular clique, who wore designer clothes and expensive jewellery that I would be terrified to wear at school. Like what if it fell on the toilet? Bye bye expensive bracelet. But she chose to hang out with me. Why she did that I still don't know.

"Come on!" Tara whined dejectedly from the other side of the door.

Instead of answering I opened the door. We looked each other up and down, checking each other out. What? Best friends are allowed to do that.

"We look hot!" Tara squealed, bouncing in the balls of her feet. A cheeky grin made its way onto her face. "Let me rephrase that; we are so getting laid tonight."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "No thanks."

"Buzz kill," Tara muttered.

"Hey, I never said you couldn't. But if you get pregnant don't think I'll come rushing to your aid, I've seen and smelt enough of Jasmines diapers to last a lifetime." I shuddered just thinking about it.

"So you don't want kids then?" Tara asked with her hands firmly planted on her hips.

"I do...just not anytime soon."

"Phew, I thought I was never going to get to be the cool aunt who feeds the kid loads of sugar then gives it back."

"You have a brother you know."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"He'll probably have kids when he's older."

"Nah, he's too ugly to get laid."

"You're so kind."

"I know."

~*~*~*~

Tara was perched precariously on the windowsill, pressing her face up to the glass.

She abruptly screamed. "They're here!"

Then she fell on the ground.

She hoisted herself off the carpet, dusting herself off as I watched amusedly.

"I'm okay," she muttered more to herself than me.

She grinned creepily. "They're here!" She smacked my arm excitedly.

I smacked her back.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"Because you hit me first."

She shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Are we going or what?" I asked, getting halfway to the door, before Tara dragged me back by my arm.

"We have to wait until they're actually inside, otherwise they'll think we been looking out the window like creepers."

"Well, you have, so they probably saw you fall off the windowsill."

She huffed. "Whatever."

I heard the doorbell and Tara's mom yelling that she'd get the door. I hadn't been nervous before, but I was starting to get jittery with anticipation. I could tell that Tara felt the same way because she had stopped talking. After what felt like hours Tara swept past me, whispering to follow her lead. I did as I was told, exiting her room and heading to where the grand staircase lead to the entranceway of the house. Cliché, I know.

I didn't look up as I descended the stairs for two reasons. One, if I looked anywhere but my feet I thought I'd trip and take Tara out as I fell. Two, Ryan might distract me, which would also probably end with me taking Tara out as I fell. Neither seemed like very good options, so I kept my eyes on my feet.

I heard Tara's mom gasp as she saw Tara. A sob came next, followed by 'my baby's growing up'. I have to admit that was hard to hear because my mom wasn't there, not that she would've reacted like that anyway, but I still would've liked her to be there.

I could hear my dads voice as I got closer to the bottom of the stairs. I could tell he was giving the don't-hurt-my-little-girl-or-I'll-shoot-you speech, but Ryan wasn't listening. In fact, he was staring straight over dads head, who was trying his best to be threatening and it clearly wasn't working. To his credit he was a good couple of inches shorter than Ryan, and probably the least threatening person I'd ever met, so I gave him an A for effort.

I chuckled to myself as Tara's hips swayed a little more than necessary on the short trip from the foot of the stairs to where Kyle stood. His facial expression resembled that of a dead fish, obviously gob smacked by Tara's beauty. Tara's mom was already going crazy with her camera, while trying to multitask, dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex.

I finally reached the last step, my heels making a noise as they collided with the white marble tiles that fitted so well with the expensive interior of the Ward residence. Those tiles reminded me of the time Tara and I wanted to do some interior decorating of our own. We must've been about five years old at the time and we wanted to do some painting but we had no paper. The floor was the next best option. The best thing was that when Mrs Ward came downstairs and found two paint covered children finger painting her white marble floor, she laughed it off, expressing her happiness that we were using water based paint. Then she whipped off her socks and joined us in the paint. Maybe that's where my love of art came from.

I purposely walked slowly towards Ryan so I could check him out before I got there. His hair was just the same as it always was, slightly messy and tousled, not neat, but not messy enough to look like he just got out of bed. He wore a crisp white shirt which clung to his torso, a fitted black jacket, a black bow tie, black pants and...vans?

Dad shuffled out of the way as he saw me coming and I shot him a thankful smile which he returned.

Ryan's eyes were wandering over me as I approached him. Not that I expected anything less, he is a guy after all.

"I take it you don't like dress shoes then?" I teased, looking down at his black vans.

He smiled sheepishly. "Nah, I save those for funerals." He gave me a sincere smile. "You look beautiful by the way."

I shook my head, shaking off the compliment. "I feel like you're obliged to say that."

"Maybe I am, but it's still true."

I didn't know what to say to that, instead I started to critique his bow tie, which I was glad he had opted to wear. Bow ties are so much more attractive than regular ties.

"Did you tie this with your eyes closed Martinez?" I asked jokingly.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't Harper, mind fixing it for me?"

"Sure," I mumbled, taking a step closer to him so I could reach.

I fiddled with the bow tie, straightening and tugging it so lined up with the buttons on his shirt.

"There," I muttered to myself.

"Better?" He whispered.

I looked up to find is face mere inches from mine. If I could just stand on my tiptoes...

Someone cleared their throat.

I sighed. Thanks dad.

I left Ryan, walking over to him. He smiled sadly. "So you're all grown up, huh?"

I shrugged, a gentle smile gracing my lips. "I guess so."

"You know you're the best daughter a man could ask for, kiddo."

I wrapped my arms around him and he held me on a way that only a father can. "And you're the father I always dreamed of, but never thought I'd get."

He unwrapped his arms from around me, kissing the top of my head as if I was a small child.

I grinned. "Dad, are you crying?"

"Pfft no, my eyes are just...leaking," he said unconvincingly, while trying to clear his eyes of moisture.

I felt a presence behind me as Ryan wrapped an arm around my waist. "Ready to go?"

Dad glared at his arm as I heard Tara and Kyle exiting the house, Mrs Ward barely holding herself together.

Dad directed his attention towards Ryan. "Look, I'm sure you're a good kid, but if you don't bring back my little girl in the exact condition she is now, I'll chop off your head and nail it to my front door as a warning for any other guys she brings home. Got it?"

Ryan gulped, nodding. We went to the door, and I only just reached the handle when we were stopped again.

"Wait! I need to take pictures!"

So we posed for a good three minutes while Mrs Ward played photographer. It sucked majorly because I hated getting my photo taken, even selfies were a struggle.

Finally we were allowed to leave, making a quick exit so we couldn't be delayed any longer.

"Well that was fun," Ryan said as we walked down the path to where an expensive looking car, that I couldn't even name if I tried, sat gleaming in the setting sun. An upgrade for the night courtesy of Mr Ward.

"I would've had more fun removing my fingernails with tweezers."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad."

"Whatever you say."

Ryan opened the door for me, allowing me to slide across the leather seats without getting my dress caught. He walked around the car, getting into the seat beside me, with Kyle driving and Tara sitting in shotgun.

We drove the short distance to the school, where our gym, which by day held hundreds of sweaty individuals, would be the venue for this apparently formal occasion.

I could already see girls in all different kinds of dresses as we came to a halt in the parking lot. There were long ones, short ones, blue ones, green ones, yellow ones, and even the pink one which made me look like I'd turned into a cloud of cotton candy. Then there were the girls in really short dresses, the girls who were thinking about one thing in particular. I don't think I need to spell it out for you guys.

I opened my door, crawling out of the cramped space. Ryan's shoulders deflated as he saw I had already exited the vehicle, not gracefully, but I'm not exactly known for my grace anyway.

He held out his hand, which I took, closing the door.

"I was supposed to do that sunshine," he whined.

"Why? My arms and legs work perfectly well."

"I don't doubt that," He said as we followed Tara and Kyle across the pavement. "I was trying to be a gentleman."

"I guess chivalry isn't dead then."

~*~*~*~

Hey it's another chapter!

I feel so sad. It's like all of the characters are my babies and they're growing up. They grow up so fast!

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Until next time.