The Bad Boy Inside the Chicken Suit ✔ [BOOK 1]

(1) Yellow Fluffy Suit... I love it!

I have never been a patient person.

If someone who knows me tells you otherwise, they either lie or do not know who I am. I'm not patient with anyone, not even my own mother.

For instance, whenever I point at the obvious that my mom was late in our Mother-Daughter Bonding Session (she likes to call it that way), she would start babbling about how she waited nine months for me to be fully developed before pushing me out of her.

Cue for an eye roll.

I stood silently waiting near the tiny arcade room in Walmart with my dead phone on hand for two extremely boring hours. I was originally waiting outside for my lovely mother to finish her weekly shopping spree, but we all know the horrific things that can happen outside Walmart. Along with that abominable scent that's coming from somewhere even I don't know where.

In all honesty, it would not have been as boring if my phone didn't give up on me because of the long hours of playing Piano Tiles... but then again, there's the possibility that it's simply because it's an iOS. Plus, to put sugary sprinkles on top of my extremely comfortable situation, my stomach has been grumbling nonstop since my mother left and is also piercing through my other organs.

All fed up, my stomach revolted against my brain and won as it decided for me to crawl out of my comfort zone of silence and start looking for my mother... or at least to buy food.

I started my search for a woman with short blonde hair, white loose long sleeves, and white baggy pants. No, I'm not looking for a person from the 1960s Berkeley who accidentally and unfortunately bleached up all her clothes -nope, just my mother.

I have no idea what has gotten into her today to wear the white baggy outfit, but it is the reason why I agreed to let her do some shopping. I would wait somewhere in Walmart while she does her own thing inside just to make sure that she is doing some shopping. I even suggested going to a bigger Walmart that is located three towns away from where we live just to make sure that she would have a lot of options.

I remembered her asking me if her shoes matched her pants and I answered her with my usual answer every time she asks me that same question, "I'm sorry and everything, but obviously, I'm not that kind of girl." And she knows that.

Just as I've said, it is obvious that I don't like fashion that much. I stand with the unpopular opinion of clothes being "just clothes". Especially for the fact that I don't know how to nicely say "you look like a clown" without hurting anyone's feelings.

I remembered my little cousin, who lives in Ohio, asking me if she looks cute in her fairy princess costume. It is made up of neon pink fabric, bright blue lace, and assorted colors of beads from red to violet that is wrapped around her waist. So really, she looks like vomit disguised as a rainbow that came out from a unicorn. I know that describing someone as unicorn barf is an insult even if it's colorful, which is why I chose the safe answer and said, "You look like a unicorn...?"

And it was at that moment I knew that I fudged (say no to bad words) up.

She cried, she bawled, and she sobbed. She gave me a throne I will forever be wearing as she named me the worst cousin in the world. I honestly thought that calling her a unicorn would be a compliment.

I never planned to offend her. She told me that she loves unicorns after all. Who would have thought that calling a child an imaginary colorful animal is an insult?

I walked towards the pastry section and sighed out "ooh's" and "ahh's" when I saw various types of bread that were not offered in Denovan, aka the town I lived in. When I haven't seen my mom anywhere, I decided to just go back to where I was originally waiting. I walked towards the cashier and started waiting in line to pay for the croissants I grabbed.