An incessant stream of water pounds feverishly across hastily mopped tile from rust-strangled shower faucets, rattling across thin plastic pulled tight on flimsy hooks and echoing out into an atmosphere ripe with a cloud of heavy-handed deodorant and mismatched perfumes. Jadeās eyes, feline and bright, quickly scan the surrounding locker room; she has to operate smoothly and with a demonstration of speed lest she be accused of rampant lesbianism once again - surely all the girls can remember how traumatizing those two months were where Nurse McRae had to sit in on them as they got changed due to a spiteful complaint from a scorned lover who quickly left Bullworth in shame thereafter.
Not worth, it in all aspects.
Pushing a breath free from heavily glossed lips, Jade dips her hands within the mouth of her fluorescent pink draw-string bag far more swollen than normal and pulls free a large well loved Morphe eyeshadow palette, running her thumbs over its lid; a testament to a killer contour, a heavenly highlight, and some dazzling decor. By god - the bitch can blend.
The cool crisp tile underneath her feet is solid, almost threatening, and enough to cause a moment of unplanned hesitation. Of course, her finances are ample, more than enough to purchase another palette herself, but where would be the fun in that? Of course this route does have a list of possible consequences and flawed outcomes-
Suddenly thereās an unexpected t h u d across Jadeās spine, and with the odd balance of her palms the palette she was holding immediately crashes loudly to the floor. Her tangled gasp lost amidst a sea of bubbling laughter and that definitive cuss of āClumsy bitch!ā from whomever passed her by. A vivid array of multicolored dust spirals around her feet, a highly pigmented meadow which will be swept clean before the sun has set even on this uneventful day.
Gnawing the edge of her lips, she gathers the shattered corpse of her destroyed eyeshadow, using some monumental strength to toss warped cardboard inside the trash. Her wild heartbeat is thundering within a hollow chest - and with a face drained of color save for the turquoise shimmer pressed into the crease of her eye - she turns herself back in toward her locker.
Clearing a space beside her shiny new perfume bottle is surprisingly effortless, just enough space to tack down a previously handwritten post-it note within her locker which reads:-
āIām not sure who you are or why you have taken an interest in me as of late. Iām probably misinterpreting all of this. Perhaps you are only trying to show kindness and my ego is reading it as romance. Either way, would I please get a clue as to your identity? And also, why me? You donāt have to buy me things to impress me. - Jade xoxoā
Her cinnamon kiss glistens across the corner of the note, her scent tinting the paper, and she closes her locker up with a thought toward what Monday will bring.
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