Fic title inspired by a line in Cibo Matto's Flowers -'Memory rubs in my heart like sand on my feet.' I might make this a multi-chapter drabble thing, because Cibo Matto's songs give me a lot of inspiration for Kitty/Franke.
"Oh my god, look at her."
"I know, that's like the fifth time she's gotten her hair stuck on her lips."
The girls sitting next to Kitty on either side at her table- Jessica on her right and Marissa on her left- both snickered at the unfortunate girl with the god-awful make-up job, the combination of powdery lavender eyeshadow and sticky lipgloss certainly not doing her any favors. Kitty had spotted her in the lunch line long before either of her lackeys had pointed her out, but hadn't felt much like saying anything about it. Usually she'd be all for tearing apart a badly made-up stranger, but she had important plans for later tonight, and the anticipation she had for the coming event left her too distracted for gossip.
"I bet she put that eyeshadow on with her fingers," Marissa said, scandalized that anyone would apply their make-up in such a barbaric manner.
"God, you know she does." Jessica turned her head to look at the spectacle the girl had made of her face. "A Mac 217 would never leave a mess like that."
Kitty remained silent, a small smirk on her face. It wasn't directed at the girl, who was on a rung so low on the social ladder that she wasn't even worth notice. Her 'friends' might have been laughing at her badly applied eyeshadow, but Marissa own shadows were muddy, and Jessica was wearing silver on her lids,which, with her pale skin tone, just washed her out regardless of what brush she had used. Franke used her fingers to put eyeshadow on and it always looked nice, Kitty thought, poking idly at the garden salad the family chef had made for her lunch with her fork. She had also used them on Kitty's eyes, when it was her turn to do Kitty's make-up. She could still feel the soft, gentle tap of Franke's index finger, the almost reverent way she'd swiped the shimmery, apricot color onto her lids, quickly and smoothly. The shade, which had been Franke's choice, had been a good one, complementing the tangerine blush she'd dusted her cheeks with perfectly.
"Is she trying to be Mandy Moore? Because she's giving me Mandy Moore vibes." Jessica turned again, giving the girl a wave from across the cafeteria. The girl, oblivious to their mockery, waved back, the rapid movement of her hand reminding Kitty of the way her Dad's girlfriend's chihuahua wagged her tail. This prompted another round of derogatory laughter at the table.
Kitty didn't join in, too irritated by the way these girls giggled to even pretend to be amused. She was especially annoyed with Jessica, by the way she covered her mouth and tried to sound as dainty and feminine as possible. It was so controlled, and so...fake.
She couldn't help but compare the way Jessica tittered to how Franke would laugh her head off at anything that struck her as funny without any thought to how she looked to other people. Early on, when they had first met, Franke used to snort when she laughed. Kitty had taught her how to not do that, but more often than not, Franke would still snort in that loud, ungraceful way without thinking, and Kitty had been too charmed by how cute she sounded to chastise her for it.
She remembered how Franke had laughed so hard when Vernon Tripe had gotten his ass kicked by that big Russian kid that she nearly passed out. Her face had turned bright red and tears had streamed down her cheeks. Later, she had done a re-enactment of the incident, giving Mikhail the worst Russian accent she'd ever heard. Kitty couldn't recall ever giggling so hard before that day, and hadn't done so again since she'd parted from Franke some two months ago.
"Hey, Kitty," Jessica said, her nasally voice cutting into her thoughts. "Marissa and I are going Mikayla Feri's party later tonight." She arched an eyebrow slyly. "I heard Jared Jugovic is going to be there."
Jared who? Oh, that blond guy that she'd been stringing along for a while. Really, she should just cut him loose- having some loser follow her around like a puppy used to be fun, but it seemed to have gotten old, for he brought her no entertainment. Sort of like the girls at her table. "Seriously? You expect me to go to Mikayla Feri's party?" She asked, shaking her head derisively.
Jessica blinked. "Uh, what's wrong with Mikayla Feri?"
There was nothing wrong with Mikayla Feri (she had really good taste in handbags),but today was Thursday, and Thursday was the night Franke's parents went out for dinner, thus giving Franke unlimited access to the family computer. Kitty couldn't miss out on their weekly chat just to hang out with people she didn't like. "What, you don't know?" Kitty asked, her tone smug with the knowledge that Jessica supposedly didn't have.
Jessica flushed, a pretty pink blooming on her cheeks. Even that annoyed Kitty- when Franke blushed, she blushed, her entire face turning bright red. "O-oh, right," she stammered, trying to recover her composure. "I know what you're talking about. I'm not going, of course. You wouldn't catch me dead at Mikalya Feri's party!"
"Yeah, me too! I'm not going either!" declared Marissa, not wanting to be left out. Jessica and Marissa then began to discuss all of Mikayla Feri's flaws in great detail, relishing in the gossip that they were pretty much just making up on the fly.
Kitty kept her expression neutral, but internally she was rolling her eyes at their fake display. She glanced down at her Olivia Burton watch. Only six more hours...