DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #99- patterns

4:30PM
Tori's room

'Tori, can I borrow this? It's so pretty'. Bessie asks me, with one of my chunky, golden hip chains in hand, looking at it like it's the prettiest piece of jewellery she's ever seen. We are in my room, getting ready to go take a dip with the guys at the hotel pool, while they're already poolside and having some brotherly fun. Bessie and I are still here, I'm cranking up some music from back home, my mom is on the phone keeping us company on speaker mode, and we're taking our time getting ready here. Especially me, the serial procrastinator. I know that Gerry's at the pool, I can hear him cackling and laughing with his buddies from here  ... and he seems to be cool and stuff, taken out of context. But I know that he's gonna turn into a whole, different person, the moment he sees me. Because guy hates me, and the sole sight of me triggers the worst to come out of him. And no, no one has still been able to understand why's that. Sean tried to, but his fist landed on Gerry's face mid conversation.

But fuck Cuntrell, and back to us girlies getting ready. Bessie is wearing a very pretty, very pink, very skimpy bikini for the upcoming dip, she's looking beautiful as always... and I think that my handmade hip ornament would pair perfectly with her dip ensemble ! And I really do wanna twin with her, because I too am wearing one of my handmade hip chains, only paired with a less revealing, total white bikini. Maybe I should go for a one piece swimsuit, maybe I shouldn't even go to the pool at all because I know that Gerry's gonna be at my throat, at some point... but do I care? No! I gotta twin with Bessie, and if Bessie goes to the pool wearing a two piece, I'll do the same!

'Yes! Take it... and never return it! It's a gift!' I squeal, grabbing the hip chain from Bessie's hands, and hooking it around her waist although she never asked me to do the thing. Still, I do the thing, and I realise that I've done the right fucking thing when I can see a huge, huge smile making a cameo on Bessie's lips. I think she appreciated my gift and my enthusiasm, and I think that the hug she's pulling me into is a way to show me her gratitude. She is grateful for her gift, but I am more grateful for her friendship! It doesn't happen everyday, to have a white girly pal who likes your handmade, Middle Eastern pieces of jewellery, and who asks you if she can borrow a piece before going to take a dip with a bunch of dirty Seattle rockers ! Honestly, Bessie and Chrissie can borrow everything mine ... except my beautiful, sarcastic, dark haired and dark eyed mr. Honda Four ! Everything, anytime ! But not Sean !

'Khair ? Turn that fucking music off, or people are gonna think we're terrorists'. Gerry yells from the poolside, sounding as annoyed by me and my ways as only Gerry can be. Apparently, guy gets pissed at me even when he can't see me in the face, I'm listening to music in my room, and I'm getting ready for the pool with my best friend. Which is the woman he claims to love. But Bessie doesn't want him, if not for just a good time. Bessie wants another guy for a solid time... and if Gerry disrespects my music and implies I'm a terrorist affiliate at 4:35PM, from three floors down while he should just be supposed to have some fucking fun with his bandmates, it's because he thinks I was the one to take Bessie away from him. No, I wasn't - he eliminated himself with all of his indecent bullshit! But he's a victim, a super passive aggressive one, and he's blaming the consequences of his actions on me. Insulting me an awful lot while he's at it. I want my best friend to be with a guy who'd treat her a hundred times better than him... and apparently, being a reasonable friend to Bess warrants me insults about my weight, my appearance, my age, my worth, my intelligence, the music I listen to, and my fucking DNA heritage too. Gerry's even had to say bad things about the way I walk! I mean, can he get any more delusional than that? I don't think so.

I roll my eyes back at Gerry's comment, mildly annoyed by his hateful gabbing, but not surprised one bit. Bessie rolls her eyes back, too, but she turns up the volume of my music, instead of turning it off as in Gerry's input. Very much à la who gives a fuck, if people think that we're terrorist solely because of the music we're cranking up. Honestly, I believe that people have a couple problems, if they don't think that Arabic music is amazing and that Arabic is the most beautiful language in the world ! My mom is there with us, and she's yelling a few curses into the phone. She speaks English, she perfectly understood Gerry's comment, she didn't have it at all ...and now she's doing the drama queen, insulting a mysterious ignorant yank in full Arabic, and staying real passionate and real polite through it. When mama Khair says that Gerry should've taken a shit, instead of speaking, I reckon that my native language is indeed the most beautiful language in the world. And definitely the most polite and the most creative one with the insults.