8.00 a.m.
My head feels like it has been spun around for hours like in a Spanish inquisition. I have to perfect my routine duh! I don’t need Jess Brunner to laugh her ass out as I trip and tumble down the stage. Pheew! Clare is here already. From my window I can see her car coming through the gate. I check myself in the mirror as I step out of my mirror. Mom is standing on the corridor. “I will say this again. Sorry sweetie I would have loved to come but I have to go to Pretoria. All the best sweetie. You will wow them!” I forcefully stretch out a wry smile, blocking the disappointment. She gives me a quick hug and I am off, Clare following me into the car. This day better turn out good.
****
9.30. a.m.
The other girls look like so nervous. I’m no different. My legs just can’t stay straight. “Hey Gabbie. Have a seat.” Clare intervenes, holding out a plastic chair to me.
“I never thought it would be as scary as this,” I admit what is so obvious. “It’s because everyone sees the other as competition. But I know you will pull this off without flashing your boobs or dropping your skirt.” Oh, I know what she means. She’s hinting at Jess Brunner. Everyone in Fourth Year calls her Tall Slut. Standing at five nine and being brain dead most times when it comes to English.
Shit! Here she comes. I can feel Clare recoiling. I’m not in a mood for this confrontation either. “So the two class losers are here,” she spits out every word with uttermost disgust. Jess rolls her massive alien green eyes so hard I bet she could spin the earth if she had wanted. She looks like a Russian slut with that curly red hair. “I bet you came to show us how you are so good at, wait what, LOSING!?” She has gone too far with her foul mouth. Clare steps in between us, raising her right hand in front of Jess’ crumpled face. Clare takes a deep breath and bellows out, “Look here Miss EveryoneShouldKissMyStinkyAss. You will surely be the one crying her sore ass off after losing to Gabbie. You should probably bet all your money on it ‘cos surely you’ll need some to buy beer while you cry yourself to sleep.” That one cut deeper than any huntsman’s knife. Jess heaves up her chest and gives me the creepiest death glare ever imagined. This is not over alright. She tilts her head in some mad way and stomps away like an eight year old.
“Clare! We don’t want to be giving threats to her. She surely get back at us,” I vent out my frustrations to Clare who gives me a look of fierce victory. She puts her hands on my shoulders and tries to reassure me that everything will work out. I sure hope she’s right. I need to see my eighteenth birthday. We have about twenty minutes to get ready. Clare is the one doing my make-up. I rush to the changing rooms and get into my outfit.
alyssanisha 