Willow

1

Willow did not like the mall. Period. To be truthful, she did not like anything much. The only things she really liked were sweaters, cats, blankets, tv shows and music.

On the contrary, she absolutely hated the sound of chewing, people, school, loud sounds, among other things. The mall was a perfect place with lots of people and lots and lots of loud sounds. To add to this, it was unsanitary. Very unsanitary. If Willow were to go anywhere–and this goes especially for the mall–she would've brought some sort of hand sanitizer or fingerless gloves. Unfortunately, while rushing to the mall, she'd forgotten them. She'd forgotten a lot of other things, too. To make matters worse, she was late.

"I'm so sorry," Willow repeated for the thousandth time. "I lost track of time–"

"It's fine," Lizzy chirped, lips pulling into a smile. Willow didn't need to look up to know it was fake. This was all fake anyway. Lizzy was probably being paid to do this. After all, all the others were.

Racking her brain, Willow searched for something to say.

"Where would you like to go first?"

Lizzy checked her phone and muttered something like, "2 more hours." Scanning the area, she sighed deeply, then said, "I don't really care."

"Oh, ok." Willow picked at the scab on her finger. "How about the bookstore, then?"

"Alright."

The walk to the bookstore was incredibly dull. Willow tried not to trip as people came rushing from behind her, going in and out of stores.

Lizzy tried to start conversations with icebreakers, but Willow ended up rambling on and on about shows until Lizzy lost interest. This was what happened in all the arranged meetings she'd had. Willow talked, they listened, lost interest, and there was no connection. No second meeting either.

"What kind of books do you like reading?" Willow asked, looking Lizzy in the eye. Eye contact was crucial in forming friendships. Not too much eye contact, though–just enough to let the other person know you were listening.

"I don't know, whatever's good." Lizzy scanned the area again, as if desperate for some escape. "Harry Potter's decent."

Willow nods, determined not to go on a rant. "The movie's good too."

"Yeah."

Out of the corner of her eye, Willow spotted a small table with books stacked in piles of 3. They were new copies of a recent installment of a book series that Willow had been dying to get her hands on. She wanted to saunter over and pluck it right off the table, but Lizzy's frown and scrunched up nose made her stop.

"Uh, we can go somewhere else if you want," Willow suggested, trying not to sound sad. A potential–well, unlikely–friendship was at risk. She had priorities to take care of.

"Alright."

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Willow's shoes tapped against the floor, bored. The dim music overhead certainly didn't help with her boredom, especially since she didn't know any of the songs.

"What do you think?"

"Uhhh..."

This was the 24th time Lizzy had come out of the changing room. She had picked out a handful of clothes, suggesting that Willow could give her opinion on each one.

This time she was wearing a crop top (the 20th one) and a skirt that made Willow desperately hope Lizzy had worn something under.

"Looks, uh, nice," Willow said. Then added, "Really suits you," to make it sound like she meant it.

Lizzy sighed (for the 24th time). "I guess you're just not a shopping person," she said, retreating into the room.

They came out of the store with the two bags Lizzy carried around the mall like they were her most prized possessions. Willow, on the other hand, had her hands up in her sleeves, trying her best to keep up with Lizzy's abnormally fast walking speed.

"Lizzy!"

Hands were flung around Lizzy's neck. They belonged to a person (about Willow's age) with hair that hung in blonde curls and thin lips that were bright red.

"Oh, do you watch that show?" Willow pointed to their shirt–a cat wearing a witch hat in front of a cauldron.

"What show?" they asked, looking down at their shirt. "This is from a show?"

"Cat Magic."

"Never heard of it."

"It's actually really well known–"

"You're the girl Lizzy's supposed to hang out with right?"

Willow tried not to look pissed. What right did they have, barging into her life and cutting her off in the middle of a sentence? The audacity. Honestly.

"Yes." Willow tilted her head up a little bit.

They looked at her for a second longer, then started to talk to Lizzy. Willow awkwardly stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Her legs were tired from walking, her head was cloudy with thoughts and the loud commotion of the mall made her sick. She wanted to go home.

                                                                                    ...

Willow's room was designed for comfort. Her bed with plump pillows and purple blanket; the walls, covered in movie posters and her paintings; and a carpet that ran all over the area of her room.

If not for her plump pillows, Willow's room would have been flooded the second she came home.

"Why is my life like this?" she screamed. She screamed. Why did she scream? At this point, it should be no surprise that she still hadn't made a single friend.

"It's that goddamn bitch," Willow muttered to no one in particular. "Swooped in and snatched Lizzy away like a goddamn bird."

Once she'd calmed down–and once she'd accepted that she was shit at making friends–Willow lay on her back, staring at her ceiling. She wished she had a ceiling fan. She wished her phone wasn't dead right now and she could just get sucked into social media, endlessly scrolling. She wished she had a friend. ONE friend. Why couldn't she just have one?

The sound of a door being slammed shut and the sound of clomping steps filled Willow with dread. Why was she back so early? She said by dinnertime. DINNERTIME. That was nearly two hours away.

"How was it?"

Willow squeezed her eyes shut. Her mom probably had a big, hopeful grin on her big perfect face that perfectly fitted with her big ego and high levels of narcissism. "It was...fine."

A sigh.

"I'm starting to run out of people to contact. You really got to commit yourself, Willow. Remember to smile. Laugh, even if their jokes are crap. I could go on and on about the dos and don'ts, but I don't have all the time in the world, Willow. Just please try, try to at least make one friend."

Willow didn't even bother to explain that she WAS TRYING HER HARDEST. She even applied all the crappy advice her mom gave her. They were getting paid, anyway, so it wasn't like they wanted to be her friend. Willow had seen enough shows and movies to know that bribery was not the key to friendship. It was supposed to come naturally–which is something she felt very hard to believe.

"Willow, are you listening?"

Eyes opening, Willow mumbled, "Yes."

"Good. I'm about to book another hang out for Saturday. Wear something nice this time, please. I'll take you shopping if I really have to."

When her mom's footsteps faded away, Willow grabbed her pillow and screamed.