It was no use, even with the stickiest chewing gum I could find, my heel would not reattach to the bottom of my boot.
"Damn." I hissed through gritted teeth, I sighed. My Mother shot me a look that could kill, "Sorry." I mumbled, sitting back into the bucket of the cab seat. The drive seemed longer than I had expected and the cab smelled of cigarettes and some funky smelling perfume. Maybe some old lady perfume, you know the kind that smells of mothballs and fabric softener, if you're lucky, otherwise it smells like cats and body odor. Maybe it was my Mother's perfume, but I didn't think so. Staring out the window, I found the city of Minneapolis to be kind of dull. There were no clubs; no funky looking little shops to buy vintage clothes in, and no unique restaurants, just a little beat up diner and an old sports store. Who lived here? People born in the Sixties? The thought escaped my mind as the arena we were heading to, came into sight.
"It's tiny!" I gasped with repulsion, my Mother shot me another look with her death ray eyes. "What? I'm not allowed to talk now?" I asked confused at her expression. She shook her head in annoyance before rolling her eyes, stepping out of the cab. I sighed deeply, throwing my heel into my purse, I'd deal with it later when I could get a minute.
Did you ever try to walk on a boot with no heel? It just feels wrong. Like someone turned your toes up to the air and your calf is bent way too far. Well, try walking on that with a large trunk dragging behind you and your Mother telling you what a disgrace to the family you are.
"I can't believe you! What are people to tell about you anyway? Heaven knows what they think about me already." She ranted just for the sake of ranting. I swear the woman just liked to hear herself talk more than anything else.
We walked slowly down the dimly lit hall of the washed-up arena and there was the princess now, trying to stretch out her muscles on the cold concrete floor. She leant forward, her blonde hair falling ever so perfectly into her face to block it from view. God, she made me sick sometimes. Looking up, she flashed us the perfect smile and I grinned sarcastically.
"Tammy!" My mother shrieked with delight, making me want to gag. See what I mean about how my family loves her. Sometimes I think my Mother likes Tammy more than me and I'm her own daughter.
"Mrs. Evans." She said in her sweetest voice. You could tell she was faking it. They hugged and I looked the other way. How could anyone be such a suck up, not to mention in love with themselves?
"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Mom?" My Mother cooed affectionately. I skulked over to where they were standing and made a gagging noise to let my presence be known; Tammy smiled warmly as if I hadn't done anything wrong.
"Madison, how nice to see you." She said still smiling. I'm sure, I thought to myself. She never even associated with me at the school and she only really talked to me when she had to. I rolled my eyes,
"I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else." The remark was dripping with distain. I sighed and skulked off towards what I presumed to be my dressing room down the hall without another word. I heard them continue to ramble on about wedding plans and every other thing they could think of as I changed my shoes and decided to sneak out back for a smoke before the show. I never smoked in front of my Mother; she would kill me. Peeking my head out of my dressing room door, I made sure they were gone before heading in the direction we came in towards the back of the arena.
"Thinks she can bully me around..." I mumbled to myself, pulling the pack from my back pocket. I was nearly to the door when it flew open and a man stood there looking at me.
His dark hair hung over the bandana that was wrapped around the crown of his head and hung loosely to his sweat ridden forehead. Wearing a tank top and a pair of baggy jeans, he smiled slightly in my direction before heading farther into the arena, wiping a stray hair from his neck. My knees felt weak and a cold sweat crept up my back, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He was so cute, my mind kept repeating to itself.
"Wait a minute, I'm Madison Evans. Boys stare at me, not the other way around." I said confidently to myself, marching after him. I might as well get a date while I was here, the trip wouldn't be a complete loss then. I marched around the corner almost running into a shorter man with longer black hair, wrapped in a loose cloth.
"Sorry." I mumbled looking around him towards the guy I had been drooling over, he was now surrounded my 4 girls, laughing and pretending to understand his jokes. I rolled my eyes, chicken heads...definitely. For those of you who don't know what a chicken head is, I'm not going to explain it, just know it's someone who has a lot of guy friends for a reason and tends to not stay with one long for a number of reasons. I could never be friends with those types of people. I've only really known two of them in my life and no; Tammy was definitely not one of them. She was many things, but I could never call her that. No matter how much I hated her.
I really get off track easily, so you'll just have to bear with me here. Going back to what I was saying, the guy; the one I wanted, was surrounded by a bunch of chicken heads looking to get with him. How dare they? I thought silently. Stepping back a minute I thought about this last statement, He didn't even know me, one of these girls could be his girlfriend and I wouldn't know it, hell I couldn't even speak back there, I was so weakened by his presence.
"Hey, Portman, Let's go!" The man standing next to me yelled back at him. He smiled, unfazed by his buddy's request and nodded a little,
"In a minute." The shorter man scoffed and turned the corner to head down the next hall towards the arena entrance. I watched the events contemplating my next move and finally decided to follow the shorter man and try to flirt with him to get him to give my number to his friend.
"Hey, wait up!" I yelled after him, trying to run with my backside still hurting from the fall. I wobbled a little. His face lit up into a smile from the sight and he suppressed a laugh.
"You okay there?" He asked, still smiling. I scowled at him,
"Excuse me, I happened to fall at airport, severely hurting myself, not that it's any of your concern." I stuck my nose up in the air and puffed out my chest a little.
"Wow, I've only met one person in my life that was more of a brat than you." He said starting to walk away.
"Hey, I was talking to you." I yelled, continuing to follow him. I was fuming from his comment. I wasn't a brat. He stopped, groaning a little bit at being bothered.
"Look lady, I've already had a hell of a week, unless it's an emergency, I'm in a hurry here."
"Look, I'm sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. I'm Madison Evans, you know, Scott Evans' sister?" I tried to smile warmly, still feeling the sting from his earlier accusation. His face turned into one of questioning before extending a hand to me,
"Fulton Reed." He said softly, still searching my face for something. I stared back at him for a minute before letting go of his hand. They were rough to the touch and he smelled of soap and wood, a bitter combination, I thought.
"Let me guess, this has something to do with him?" He asked pointing back in Portman's direction.
"Well, sort of. You see, I was wondering if you'd mind passing my number along to him." He rolled his eyes a little bit, he must get this request a lot, I thought.
"Just give it to me I'll give it to him." He sighed heavily as I giggled a little pulling out a pen from my back pocket and a notepad from my purse. I scribbled my cell phone number down and handed it to him.
"Thanks." I waved a little running off towards my locker room. That's when I heard her voice.
She sighed deeply, heading back towards the locker room after insisting that my Mother take her seat in the stands before they were all filled. Her hair was starting to fall down out of her clip and ever so perfectly; she went to pull it back up. As she turned the corner she stopped, spotting Fulton at the other end of the hall talking to me. She saw me pass a note to him and her face reddened with anger. Was the princess mad? I thought, keeping the door open a crack to see what was going on. Obviously she knew this guy. They smiled at each other a little before the air erupted into an argument
"Geez, I come here for the show and I keep getting stopped every five minutes. What can I do for you Ms. Duncan?" He asked sarcastically. Tammy sneered at him,
"Nothing, except maybe fall off a cliff. Why don't you just hit on every girl you come in contact with?" She asked, her face reddening even more and heat up with anger. He smiled,
"You're jealous. I wasn't sure the last time but now I'm positive. It wasn't Carrie's age or you being worried about me. Or the fact that Scott's sister Madison - who so kindly introduced herself to me - was talking to me. You just can't handle me being with anyone but you." Fulton smiled again, the reality finally hitting him.
"You're full of yourself aren't you?"
"Look in the mirror." He shot back at her. Finally someone to put her in her place.
"Oh, I've looked. It's obvious you haven't or you'd know how stupid you look!" She said raising her voice.
"Excuse me, Princess, we all couldn't have private tutors like you!" He yelled back. Someone else called her a princess as well?
"No, but they did make special classes for you!" She shot back. She really was a bitch. He stepped back a minute to compose himself before continuing,
"Look, my personal life is none of your business. Frankly, my entire life is none of your business, so why don't you quit following me around." He snapped.
"Me follow you? Try reading up on stalking before you accuse me of something you're doing."
"I'm stalking you? Who stuck their head in the ice cream cooler yesterday to avoid being spotted? May I add, again in the same store as me!" Fulton shouted now.
"I was looking for the light kind and it's always in the back! Not that I need to explain myself to the likes of you!" she poked her finger at his chest.
"No, just to the man you're intending to marry." He snapped. What did Scott have to do with this? Was there something more going on here? They obviously knew each other but was it more than they were letting on?
I turned away for a minute to think this over and when I turned back they were engaged in a snog fest to rival that of Vice President Gore and his wife during their campaign for the presidency. She tried to pull away but he held her head firmly in his grasp. She finally stopped fighting and grabbed the front of his jacket in her hands, twisting the fabric against her. They were really going at it, I thought. The opportunity to get rid of her had presented itself. I had Ms. Perfect right where I wanted her; all I had to do was find Scott. She began to push on his chest.
"Fulton, stop!" She whispered as he pulled away. They parted and stood as far away from each other as possible. There was a definite tension there and I could use this to my advantage. Maybe I wouldn't get rid of her right away, maybe I'd find a way to make her want to tell Scott instead. Maybe make her hate me in the process and make her life a living hell.
"This isn't getting us anywhere. Tammy, I need you either in my life completely or not at all." He said taking long strides to get away from her. She sighed deeply, pushing her perfect blonde hair from her face and beginning to shed some silent tears. In a way, I kind of felt bad for her. She must really care about him, I thought. Then what the hell is she doing with my brother? I asked myself. There was something bigger than the problems I have with Tammy going on here, and I was going to find out what. As quietly as possible, I shut the door with a click and slid down the back of it onto the floor. This was going to be fun.