Myra's POV
"I've never tried pomegranate juice before. Do you think it would be any good?" Kim asked, fidgety and over talkative, as she always was when she was cold or nervous, or, as in this case, both. I tried to focus on the task at hand, but my shrugging off of the question didn't deter her. "There was a grocery store back there, cute little family owned place, who make their own pomegranate juice."
"Kim, why do we think we're here?"
There was a pause; no doubt she was deciding whether to take a sarcastic route or to just stay silent. While I hoped for the second, cynicism in the face of danger was always Kim's first choice.
"Well, you're here to follow Jared around, 'close enough to see, but far enough to not be seen'," she wrapped the ladder part in air quotes, "until you decide whether you go home and eat a bucket of celebratory raspberry sherbet, because he's not with this Alexa chick, or have to eat a bucket of Monkey Chunky ice cream in mourning because he is."
I tried to stop her but the rant continued, "And I'm here, because either way, you're too weak and lazy to carry home a pound of frozen dessert."
"Oh my Goodness, there he is!" I could see him walking in from where we were sitting, but couldn't tell if anyone was with him.
"Umph," a sound of dismissal from Kim.
"Do you think he'll notice my new dress?"
"I think he'll notice it about as much as the last time you bought new clothes to impress him."
"That was different." Sometimes I wish that Kim would share some of my enthusiasm about Jared. I mean, he's amazing! She wouldn't even have to be in love with him. Okay, rephrase: her being in love with him would be the worst thing possible, but would it hurt to be a little excited? Excited for me, at least?
"How?"
"Last time my budget was only forty bucks. Guess how much I spent on this number right here?"
"Probably too much considering how little fabric it's made of."
"When you're dealing with boys, things work differently. It's like fishing, you have to lure them in with something shiny, something colourful, something…"
"Half a dying worm?"
"Eww, no!"
"Then you hook them with your cold metal hook. Good plan! I know of a 24 hour bait dispenser we could visit."
"Stop letting my poor metaphor making skills distract you from the point."
"Fish dinner?" She asked, almost keeping a straight face.
"I'm going to get some punch."
"No, don't leave me," she whispered, "I hate big crowds."
I sat back down, only now realizing that I had lost sight of my Jared in the masses. I hate crowds too, if only for this reason. Kim nudged my arm, nodding to the spot where Jared, the love of my life and the only boy I've ever liked, was weaving his way through the multitude of party-goers, in our direction.
Not much to say here. Just please, please review, and I own no one but Myra.