I GOT UP from the bed at once, "What?"

"Trust me, Wendy," Clara said, feigning confidence, "He's not the best option for you. He's just a good-for-nothing bastard who's—"

I didn't know how it happened or where I got the energy to do so but the moment I heard her insult my boyfriend, my hand went up in the air and it came down hard on her left cheek. Thwack!

Clara held her cheek and stared at me in disbelief as I slapped her. It seemed I had also completely slapped off that fading cutesy aura she had on; her eyes were as plain as white.

"Who the hell gave you the audacity to talk about my boyfriend in that manner?" I glared at her.

"You slapped me," her hands vigorously shook as they held her cheek.

"And I'll do it again," I stated, "You think I was oblivious to how you wanted to flirt with my man at all costs that day? You're not sneaky at all. You wanted to talk to him on the phone so bad that you didn't even mind the manager noticing your promiscuity. Now, you're telling me to break up with him so you can have your way and flirt your silly ass all over him. You think I'm stupid?"

Clara's face was so red.

"And if you won't mind some advice from a friend," I continued, mocking her words, "You shouldn't go around flirting with guys when you have a boyfriend. That's not cute, that's just straight up messed up."

"Now, get out of my house!" I yelled, pointing at the door.

"You're going to regret this, Wendy Davis. I promise you," she glared back at me.

"You want me to hit you again?" I hissed through clenched teeth, "I said get out!"

"Fine! I'll leave. But just you wait, the drama's around here somewhere," she breathed out a laugh before she stormed out, leaving the door open.

I sighed and sat down on the bed as I held my head. With my eyes tightly closed, I took deep breaths with a strong belief that I would exhale all the rage in me.

I knew Clara was very aware of her subtle beauty, and I knew that she used it as an excuse to be flirty. But how dare she try to get me to break up with my boyfriend?

Even if she had a slutty character and was very comfortable with stealing people's boyfriends, how could she try to do that to a friend?

Okay, maybe we weren't friends. But still!

I should have done a fistbump with her nose instead, that would have been more painful— especially if it managed to dislocate her perfect nose.

"What just happened?"

I looked up to see Annabelle walk into my apartment and shut the door behind her.

"I met your co‐worker running down the stairs and she looked like a freaking tomato," she continued.

"Don't pay her any attention. She's just being her normal pretentious self," I said as I furrowed my brows.

Annabelle took a seat on the couch and dropped her bag beside her, studying my expression. She thinned her lips, then opened her mouth as if to speak.

"She came all the way to my apartment to tell me to break up with Thomas," I said before Annabelle could even ask the question.

"Well, that's one more person added to the group," Annabelle remarked.

"What do you all hate so much about him?" I softly exhaled, "He's a sweet guy!"

I couldn't even find one person who wholeheartedly supported our relationship. What was so terrible about him? And why couldn't I see it too?

"It's not that we hate him," Annabelle said, thinning her gaze and making random hand gestures as she went on explaining, "There's just the way he treats you sometimes that doesn't quite sit well with us."

"But I'm fine with the way he treats me. Doesn't that count?"

"You're only fine with the way he treats you because you're in love with him. I've never even been in a relationship before but I know that that's not how a dude should treat his girlfriend."

"I don't see it. I really don't."

"Probably because you two have been together for so long that you're now used to it. Four years, isn't it?"

"Five," I corrected, "It'll be five years next month."

"That's a really long time," she noted.

"I know. And that's why I'm telling every one of you that Thomas is a good kid. If he wasn't, I'd never have gotten interested in him in the first place."

"Whatever you say. You're the one dating him," Annabelle got up, "I'm starving. I need something to eat."

Right. I needed to eat something also but I just didn't feel like putting anything in my mouth.

Ugh!

"You're not on your diet anymore?" I asked as she walked into the kitchen, "Or has your agency permitted you to eat as you like?"

"Uhh, no," she walked out of the kitchen with a slice of bread in her mouth.

"Then, why are you eating?"

"I'm not afraid of a little bit of fat," she plainly said, holding the half-eaten slice of bread in her hand, "I can't starve myself because I want to look picture-perfect when they're just going to end up editing the pictures anyway. I'm hungry, so I'll eat."

"Want some toast?" She asked as she finished eating the slice of bread, "You know what? I don't care, you're eating some toast. I'm not letting you pass out on my watch."

She walked back into the kitchen.

"Wait, you heard about me passing out?" I inquired.

"Why do you think I'm here when I'm supposed to be having lectures?"

"Damn, how do you operate this toast machine again?" I heard her mutter to herself, "Oh, okay."

"Thomas told you about me fainting again?" I asked, lying down on the bed.

"I got a call from the hospital," she said from the kitchen as she turned on the stove, "The doctor informed me that you were calling out for your sister and Thomas when you regained consciousness. They literally had to bathe you with icy water before you calmed down."

My eyes widened in horror, "Did they call Samantha too?"

The scent of fried eggs passed my nostrils.

"I doubt. They came across my contact on your phone before they could get to Samantha's. So, they opted for me."

I exhaled in relief.

"Samantha's going to kill you if she finds out," Annabelle added, laughing.

"It's not funny, Anna," I sighed.

"No, it isn't but would you rather I cry about it?" She walked out of the kitchen, placing two slices of toast and sunny-side-up eggs before me, "I tried my best."

"It looks good," I smiled and sat up on the edge of the bed.

"I hope it tastes good too."

"You should go attend your lectures," I said while staring at my plate.

"And leave you all alone?"

"But I can't let you miss your classes because of me," I said, picking up a toast, "How about we go together?"

"There's no use. I've only got about forty minutes left before the end of my last lecture."

"Let's go, I'm bored here," I exhaled through my mouth, "Did you come with your car?"

"Yeah, I did. This place is quite far from the college grounds."

I rolled my eyes, "Wow. I never knew."

Annabelle laughed, "Eat."

I took a bite of the toast and let the subtle warmth settle on my tongue.

"This is alright," I said, nodding, "This is good."

"But is it Scarlett-good? I'd like to use it to tease her."

I laughed, "I'm sorry, babe, but this isn't half as good as hers."

"We could just lie that I made the perfect toast. She'd be so jealous that I can cook better than her," she laughed walking towards the kitchen again.

She stopped just by my work desk, checking out the unfinished white dress on my mannequin.

She turned to me, "You're still not done with mine? When will you get started with yours?"

I thinned my lips for a hot minute, "Anna, don't bother about modelling with me anymore. I don't think I want to make that dress."

I looked away from her and ate my food in silence instead.

"But the dress already looks good. Why don't you want to complete it? This could be your debut, don't you know?"

"There'll always be another chance," I said with a food-stuffed mouth.

"I'm not making the dress anymore and that's my final decision," I added after eating all that was in my mouth.

Annabelle looked at the dress one more time, "Did Thomas say something to you?"

"Not really," I stared at her, "He only advised me that dresses like these looked best on really slim ladies."

Like you.

"So our contrasting body shapes will ruin everything if I modelled the dress with you," I added.

Annabelle stared at me with disgust written all over her face, "You let a man tell you what you should do about a dress for women?"

"What? It was just an advice. And when I looked into it again, I realised that he was right. It won't look good on me, since I'm not as slim as you are. And if a medium-sized lady like me should stand next to you, it'll be too obvious that we don't have the same body size."

"So, that's why you started that awful diet that landed you in the hospital?" Annabelle raised a brow.

"It's not awful. You're on a diet too."

"Because I'm a model," Annabelle stated, "And most designers want slim models. You don't need a diet, Wendy, you're not overweight and you're not even fat. Even so, you said it yourself that you wanted to make this dress for all sizes of women, so what are you saying now?"

"I'm saying that I don't want to make the dress anymore, and that's final."

"So, you're just going to give up on this?" She asked.

I shrugged and munched on the last piece of toast. Annabelle sighed before she walked back into the kitchen, muttering to herself.

"I need to take a stroll," I said to myself and picked up the empty plate.

Annabelle turned to me on noticing that I had just walked into the kitchen, "You're coming with me to the college grounds anyway— leave it by the sink."

"Thanks."

I placed the plate down and walked out of the kitchen towards my wardrobe, pulling out a fresh set of underwear and the cafe's dress code; a white shirt and a flair black skirt.

"Are you done?" Annabelle asked as she walked out of the kitchen, watching me zip up my skirt.

I picked up a tube of concealer, applying some over my birthmark and freckles with a beauty sponge, "Yeah."

She walked out of the house and I followed suit, locking the door behind me.

"Your co-worker attends Boxton, doesn't she?" Annabelle asked as we walked down the alley towards the road, "I think I've seen her about twice."

"Yeah, she attends Boxton."

"I like her eyes," she said, making me roll my eyes.

"If you keep doing that, your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets."

I laughed, getting the door of the passenger seat of the car for myself.

Annabelle's driving was quite unique. It was the kind of driving that made one rethink their life choices because they were on the verge of death. The buildings sped past so quickly as Annabelle drove off that I couldn't even set my eyes on one for a second. She turned on the music and we sang along, laughing at each other whenever either of us got the lyrics wrong.

"Do you think you can still meet up with the last lecture?" I asked her as I saw the college entrance up ahead.

She stared at the time, "I've got twenty more minutes before it ends. I'll just sneak in."

Drawing closer to the school grounds, Annabelle slowed down her speed.

Thank goodness, I didn't lose an arm and a leg.

As she drove past the gates, a familiar dirty blonde hair caught my eye. He was wearing a black nose mask, so I couldn't tell exactly who he was as he walked out of the college grounds.

Was that... Adrian Everhart?

"What's the problem?" Annabelle asked as she noticed that my head was almost turning 180 degrees in an attempt to keep staring at the guy.

"Nothing," I said, focusing my gaze back on the road in front as Annabelle drove on to the parking lot.

That couldn't be Adrian, he said he dropped out of college.

———————————————
Tip: Thomas is Wendy's first and only boyfriend.