Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

3 - Rebecca

          My boots thumped with every step I took as I walked into the mall. I had added a new alarm clock to the list, since I had broken my other one this morning. I needed a distraction and some good food, and I felt the need to get some more clothes. I'd only been dressing alternatively for a few years, so I didn't have nearly as full a closet as I wanted.

People naturally moved out of my way — besides a few, stubborn bunch. The glass windows and doors of the passing stores looked completely useless to me, showing off pink clothing I wished I'd never participated in wearing; the price tags were ridiculous, too. There was nothing like a cheap pair of black jeans that had chain accessories to release my stress. I turned into the store I knew for a fact had clothes I liked. My fingers brushed over the shoulders of the black shirts — some thin, some t-shirts with graphic prints, some long-sleeved e-girl types. I soon found the plaid skirts and tilted my head to the side, genuinely considering getting one. They looked like they were shorter than the dress I was wearing now, which had to be an achievement.

As my eyes drifted further along the rack, the skirt I had my hand was ripped from my fingertips. "Hm, I like this one," a girl said right next to me.

I spun, ready to fight someone. That feeling only intensified when she smiled at me, holding the skirt out.

"Think it'd fit?" she asked. I regarded her for a second, questioning why she was talking to me. She had two strips of blonde at the front of her dark hair.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, for a cringy e-girl. Following more trends?" My voice sounded like a snarl.

The girl's face changed — in a positive, amused way — and she put the skirt back on the rack. I glanced down at her outfit to see that she was wearing black combat pants, thick ankle boots making her probably five inches taller than she really was, and a crop top with some graphic on it about hating other people.

I snorted. "Definitely e-girl."

"You're rude, I like you," she told me with a smile. "You remind me of someone."

"Yeah? Then go back to them and leave me alone."

No wonder I have no friends, I thought, as I turned around and headed for the dresses. I saw an almost-replica of the one I was wearing now but I didn't pick it up, searching the other clothes.

The girl's presence came up next to me again, her arm resting on my shoulder. "Definitely like you," she said.

I shivered and backed away out of her grip. She smiled at me knowingly, as if she understood my reaction.

She tilted her head to the side. "Can't we be nice to each other?"

"Being 'nice' clearly isn't my forte," I snapped. "Fuck off."

"You're pleasant," she mumbled, huffing as I turned away from her again. I walked to the jackets, most of them leather and cropped. I was reading labels alone for a while, staring at the fabric and wondering if it was real or not.

"It's not." The girl. Again.

My voice got louder than it was before, but not enough to disturb other customers and get us kicked out. "Hey, I said fuck off. And I meant it. Fuck off!"

She stood there staring at me. I nodded my head to the door, but she didn't budge. I could see the cogs turning in her head, the thoughts whirling around.

"Fine," I snapped, having enough. "I'll leave." I walked right out and stomped towards a cafe to calm my nerves. I needed caffeine otherwise I might just go back and punch that girl in the face. I didn't care who she was, or why she was bothering me. The smell of coffee and baked goods filled my nose and all of the anger and stress melted away. I gratefully drifted into the cafe to my left like I couldn't control myself. Swiftly approaching the counter, one of the employees looked at me and jerked back. I had to admit, I was getting used to that reaction.