They are all innocent until proven guilty. Not me though, am a liar until proven honest and me being proven honest doesn't change anything either. I was a liar, I am a liar and I'll always remain a liar because it was me who invited him. I am THE sl...
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"We're sorry." The saleswoman apologizes, again.
"No, it's okay," I say, thanking her for the assistance before heading out of the store.
Oh, how much I wanted those shoes. I look at the pamphlet of the shoes again and sigh. I will have to wait for two more weeks.
I'm doomed like the year 2020.
I push my way through the throngs of people, trying to make my way out of the mall but a sudden voice halts my step in the middle.
"Angelllllll," I recognize his deep husky voice.
Looking back, I watch Roman swinging his hand back and forth up in the air. People around him gawk at him, probably thinking which zoo he escaped from or which animal he resembles the most.
Definitely a monkey.
He's already making his way towards me before I can even think of getting away from him.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" He asks as he approaches me.
"What are you doing here?" I question.
"I asked first." He says, raising an eyebrow and looking around.
I roll my eyes but answer him anyway. "I came here to buy a pair of shoes, but they've already sold out. That sweet saleslady said that I'll have to wait two more weeks." My mood glooms, as I think about the shoes as I resist the urge to pout.
"This is a mall, Angel. I'm sure you'll find them in some other store." He gives me an incredulous look.
I sigh, "I know, but I don't want to roam alone in this big ass mall and search for those shoes. Guess I'll have to wait two weeks. What are you doing here by the way?"
"I'm here to find a gift for my mom's birthday. But as always I can't find anything and I don't want to end up giving her a lame gift like every year." His shoulders slump as he rakes his hand through his hair.
"When's her birthday?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Tomorrow," he replies and purses his lips.
"Her birthday is tomorrow and you're searching for a gift now?" I ask in a high-pitched 'are you kidding me' voice.
He merely shrugs, "I'm bad at this. Like really bad. I know nothing about gifts, so I leave this kind of stuff for the last minute."
"I'm bad at this too. Otherwise, I would've helped you." This time we both heave a sigh and slump with our back against the glass railings.
"What do you do for your mom's birthday?" He asks hopefully.
"Well, I don't buy her a gift or anything. I just bake a three-layer chocolate fudge caramel cake as a gift and then we both go out for a nice dinner." Well, we never went out for dinner, but we do order something from a nice restaurant because going out in Sea Crest meant a day full of torture and depression.
