Thrift Store

5| messy buns & first impressions

"When it comes to art, it's important not to hide the madness."

- Atticus

***

IF IT WERE socially expectable, there is no doubt that I would willingly wear sweat pants everyday—there wouldn't even be a hesitation or an after thought. However, we live in a world where despite how many relatable posts on tumblr there are—we still want to fit in and be normal. It's human nature, and I'm not going to pretend that I don't care about what I look like. I am a girl. But when I woke up twenty-minutes late to my study session at The Brew, the last thing I was thinking about was whether or not my jeans were buttoned or my hair was brushed. Instead, I flew out of my apartment with tired eyes and a half-hearted messy bun that will hopefully make me look the slightest bit stylish.

"Sophia, where have you been? We started a half an hour ago," Scarlett, a red headed grammar freak practically named for her hair, scolds me as I collapse into the chair next to Latika, my chest heaving up and down in a dramatic matter.

"Sorry," I say through my erratic breathing. "I forgot to set my alarm last night and then my bike had a flat tire and—"

"This behavior is completely unacceptable, Sophia," says Scarlett, a completely serious expression on her face as she folds her hands over the textbook in front of her. Who does this girl think she is?

"Mhhhmm," Latika nods mockingly along with Scarlett, amusement evident in her eyes. "Completely unacceptable, Sophia."

"Traitor," I mutter under my breath with a scowl in Latika's direction.

Latika sticks out her tongue at me.

"Alright, well since Sophia is already late and Trevor hasn't even bothered to show up," Latika flinches at the mention of her ex-boyfriends name. "I guess this session is forced to be canceled." Scarlett huffs, quickly packing up her things with a frown on her face.

I sigh, saying, "Hey, Scar, I'm sorry I was late, but that doesn't mean we can't still study–"

Scarlett cuts me off with a glare, briskly walking out of the cafe with an air of arrogance about her. Several people and fellow college students stare at our table with curiosity, and I sink further into my chair as a blush creeps upon my face. This day just keeps getting better and better.

"That girl needs a serious reality check," Latika says with her signature eye roll.

"Yeah, I mean, I know I was late, but that doesn't mean she has to storm out like the drama queen she is," I say.

Latika chuckles. "Yeah, well, I have to get going. My dad is coming in to visit and I need to clean my apartment before I get another lecture on my 'unhealthy lifestyle'."

I snicker, saying, "Latika, if he knew about all the parties you went to, he would be doing a lot more than lecturing, that's for sure."

"Don't remind me," Latika groans. "I already feel bed enough that the perfect little Indian girl he raised is now failing her college classes and is in an unstable relationship with an arrogant douche bag."

"Hey, everything will be okay," I smile encouragingly at her, noticing how her eyes start crinkling up in the corners—the first indication that Latika Sidana is going to cry.