The Cinderella Agreement (Completed) [Featured Story]

21: The Nail Polish

Sorry for the spam updates; I was editing the story and changing its tense to past~~
This chap isn't edited so please give Esther a hand and point out any errors/possible improvements~~~

Mit's fingertips met with dry, chaffed kernels when next she dipped her hand into the shallow bowl on her lap. She peered into it; all the popcorn was gone, save for a few tiny puffs. She sighed and clicked off the TV, sluggishly pulling herself off of the couch and dragging her body to the kitchen at a snail's pace.

Friday night was beyond uneventful, as Finn had been avoiding her like she was the Plague and she in turn had been avoiding Paris. The task turned out easy for Finn, who had no issue at all with being overtly rude, but for Mit, it was literal hell, which equaled to numerous speed-walking sessions, cell-phone blocking, and two episodes of hiding in the janitor's closet. By now she was positively winded.

She set the bowl in the kitchen sink, then washing her hands under the tap in one of the basins while staring at the backyard through the kitchen window. It appeared that Mrs. Wilkerson's new dog had made another 'deposit' at the edge of their yard near the hydrangea bushes.

Mit groaned, turning away. Maybe if she pretended it wasn't there, it'd disappear. Yes. Yes. Good plan. "Stupid dog. Stupid Wilkerson," she muttered, stalking back into the living room. "If you can't potty train your dog then at least get it to poop on your own lawn for Pete's sake."

Her phone buzzed awake in the coffee table with an incoming call, and after scrutinizing the caller ID (Unknown), she seemed it safe enough to answer.

"Hell—"

"I know you've been avoiding me, Michaela."

Paris? Mit flinched against the phone, as if physically slapped. After all her efforts! She'd been duped. Paris had probably gotten a disposable phone to call with or something. Or maybe a payphone? How couldn't she have seen this coming? Mit prepared for an avalanche of guilt-tripping to begin its slide in her direction. "Well, hello to you too," she attempted to play it cool.

"I've got no time for niceties," Paris said, sniffing out the bullshît, "You don't have to pretend, I know you've been avoiding me, and you have a right to do so—"

Mit's face crumpled in surprise and confusion. "I do?"

"Yes. And I admit I haven't been the best helper lately—"

"You do?!" Oh my God! Paris Holland accepting her shortcomings! Was this real life?! Mit briefly wondered if there was a call record function on her cellphone.

"Would you stop interrupting me?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." What if I put it on speaker and then record it? Would that work?