Christina's

“Is that all you’re goin’ buy? A fuckin’ bra?” Dani smacks her gum loudly.

“Did you see my bag?” Evie opens her Victoria’s Secret bag just so, revealing a mountain of camisoles, bikini’s, thongs and lotion that’d give Kim Kardashian a heart attack.

“Shit.” Dani double takes. “Must be a least $300 in there. Do your parents give you an allowance for that?”

“Who said anything about my parents?” The shit eating grin on Evie’s face says it all.

“Jesus.” Dani murmurs. “You sure do get around.”

Evelyn hands her credit card to the cashier without missing a beat, stealing a glance of her backside framed by her Abercrombie and Fitch jeans. She wiggles her butt, giggling as she puts on a show for her friend.

The young blonde behind the counter rolls her eyes, ignoring the prima donna as she swipes the card. She glances at the blank screen and scratches her head, swiping it once more. She bangs the electronic cashier, cursing under her breath.

“Just a moment.” She reassures the two customers.

“What’s taking so long?” Evie’s crosses her arms in a fit of frustration.

“Forgive me.” The blonde points towards the antiquarian computer. “My boss refused to upgrade to Linux.”

The screen finally comes to life, displaying a trio of zeros in bright green lettering.
Her eyes flit toward Evie in mock shock.

“I have some bad news.” She murmurs. “You’re card’s invalid.”

“Whaaattt!?” Evie screams.

“I said you’re card’s invalid.” The cashier tries her best to look stoic in the face of the shitstorm to inevitably follow.

Evie stomps her feet in a violent rage, pricking the ears of the young women browsing nearby. Dani looks on in disbelief, not quite believing the sight in front of her. For as long as she’s known her, Evelyn’s always been somewhat impulsive, but even the brunette would have to admit this is an embarrassment even for her.

The cashier lowers her head in deference. But secretly, she thinks this is the most awesome meltdown this side of YouTube. The only thing missing is Bacardi with ice.

“This is entirely your fault!” Evie points at her. “Where’s the manager!”

The woman shrugs.

“That’s it!” The cheerleader huffs. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer! Dani, come on!

Let’s not waste another minute with this airhead!”

An hour and several tequila shots later, she splays on her bed, vowing to call Member Services first thing in the morning. Saturday and Sunday is taken up placing a phone bank’s worth of phone calls to various credit card companies, receiving the same treatment she endured earlier. After marching back and forth pulling her hair out for forty-eight hours, the worst appears to be other.

But the bad news continues to drip, drip, drip, the following week. Her coach kicks her off the cheerleading squad for bad grades. Her teachers schedule an emergency conference with her parents. The real shiv in the back comes when her best friend
Dani defects to a younger, more stable girl—a freshman, at.

The stream of curses from her mouth isn’t enough to describe her rage. The Job-like ordeal is too surreal. When she receives her grades in the mail, full of D’s and F’s, her life seems fit for a hellhole.

“It’s just a coincidence.” She sips her Frapp at the local Starbucks as Becky listens attentively. “Some guy from Nigeria probably got a hold of my identity or something…”

“Seems like a bad string of luck we’ve hit lately…”

Evie scratches her head.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you my bank accounts were cleaned the other week?”

“You bank accounts are empty?”

“Yep.” Becky nods.

“Now that’s a coincidence. I should never have brought Dani with me to the store last week. The traitor…Now I have to travel to the next town over to get a good thong!”

“It’s not her fault you got banned from the mall.”

Evie shoots the evil eye.

“I’m just sayin’.” Becky looks away.

“What kind of sentiment is that?”

“Ever since I’ve known you you’ve been something of a firecracker. Remember that tantrum you threw in first grade?”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not just me. Dani feels the same way…”

“Dani? What does that whore have to do with this?”

“We just think you need some therapy, that’s all.”

“Therapy smerapy. It’s just a load of crap invented by a pervert from Czechoslovakia.”

Becky sighs.

“At least I tried.”

“Did that firecrotch put you up to this?”

“Why are you talking about her like that!? She’s a victim too you know.”

Evie narrows her eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

The cheerleader bolts up, her eyes widening.

“Remember that thing we did with Christina two weeks ago?”

“Yeah.”

“I think she’s behind it all…”

“You can’t be serious! But how?”

Across town, the subject of their ire cackles madly as she types away on the laptop in her bedroom, enjoying the schudenfreude.

“That reference from Mindy came in handy.” She sips her Coke as she talks on the cell phone with her friend on the other end.

“Mindy? Who’s Mindy?”

“Uh…it’s nothing.” Christina quickly changes the subject. “Just a friend at school.”

“What’s this about a reference? Did you land a job?”

“No, no. I just got help taking care of a problem.”

Christina snickers.

“What’s so funny?” Her friend asks.

“You know those cheerleaders I ran into?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just say they just got hit where it hurts them the most.”