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In the car, Alina texted Skye. This was what they always did whenever there was an adult in the car, who they didn't want hearing their conversations.
Alina: Good call bringing the brush. I had apres-dance hair. Ew x 9.
Nine was Alina's lucky number. Everything was 9 this, 9 that. Ev-er-y-thing.
Skye: Lolss, no problem. So…What's up with the last minute mall call?
Alina: You'll see. You'll like it, swearsies. But before we do anything, and I mean an-y-thing, we're going to the bathroom, ohtay?
Skye: Ohtay. I'm trusting you Lina.
Alina:
Of course, Skye had absolutely no reason to trust Alina. In the past trusting Alina meant lots of trouble, extremely awkward situations, and an extremely questionable fungus. (Don't ask- that's a whole other story entirely. One they were both trying so hard to forget.) But they were best friends, and even Skye had to admit no matter what the outcome, all of Alina's shenanigans were fun.
Charlisse was pulling into the mall parking lot by 12:00, thanks to no traffic on the freeway and, um, a self induced speed limit.
"Thanks you, Mrs. Johanneson!" Skye called, slamming her car door, just as Alina called, "!" and grabbed Skye's hand, whisking her away towards the main building of their mall, Roosevelt Field. They ran up to the second floor food court (Because everyone knows that's where the bathrooms are, duh!), not even bothering with the escalator because it was too slow for this evident emergency. As soon as they hit the bathroom, they skipped the long line of women squirming, obviously aggravated with the fact that they were forced to hold their pee for such a long amount of time. So naturally when they saw 2 14 year old girls skipping them, there were heavy protests all around. But when they saw that all the girls wanted were the mirrors, they eventually shut up and went about with their squirming.
"What…" Skye started, warily eyeing the eyeliner and lip venom Alina was unpacking from her bag. "What…is this? What's going on Lina?" All she had in response was a mischievous smirk for me and an irritated look for the middle-aged woman who just hip checked her out of the way so that she could wash her hands.