6:59

by Nonye Acholonu

  “Normally, I’d take you to those fancy designer stores that I always go to,” Hudson was saying, her fingers flying over her phone as she texted rapidly, “but since the average girl has an average budget, I’m going to take you to average stores.” She ceased her texting in order to open up the mall doors and grasp onto Armando’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to spend like an average girl.” She smiled and winked at Armando, who rolled his eyes with feigned annoyance but returned her smile, his eyes going soft as he stared lovingly at his girlfriend. I could tell that he loved to treat a girl — especially Hudson — no matter how much that treat costs.

  As we walked — well, I sorta trotted because their paces were insanely fast — we passed many stores that lined the left and right spaces of the mall. I didn’t even have time to read any of the store signs, we were walking that fast.

  It took me by surprise when Hudson suddenly veered into a clothing store, causing me slide to a severely dangerous halt. “This one looks okay-ish,” she said curiously as she slowed her pace and scanned the store. Armando and I hovered behind her, not really sure what to look for; Hudson was on a mission — alone — and we tried our best not to disturb her.

  Soon, Hudson was tossing hanger after hanger of clothing at me, each action following after her words, “Try this on!” I was slowly getting buried under a pile of frilly clothing, struggling beneath the weight.

  It was Armando who rescued me from the burden, his strong arms grasping up the load and tossing the clothing over his shoulder. He flicked the back of Hudson’s oblivious head, saying, “Cool it with clothing. You’re killing her here.” He jabbed a thumb in my direction, coupling the gesture with an apologetic smile. I shot him with a shrug of nonchalance, grateful for his kindness.

  But Hudson was growing impatient. “Well, hurry up and try them on, Anjolie,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We’ve got hundreds of other stops after this.” And with that, she grabbed my hand and led me back to the dressing rooms.

  It went on like that for hours, the three of us moving in clockwork rhythms, fulfilling a mission that could only produce good outcomes. We would run to each store, grab a gazillion outfits, I’d have to try them on, and Hudson would buy them all, regardless if I liked them or not. “Variety” was a word that became very ubiquitous in her speech, especially when I complained about the importance of having two pairs of identical shoes, each a different color. The whole experience was chaotic.

  At around mid-afternoon, we stopped at the food court to “regroup,” as Hudson would like to call it. I was exhausted, Armando was exhausted, and Hudson was, well, determined. She was not yet satisfied with the bulk of my new wardrobe, complaining that it was too small and that a girl could go through all the clothes in less than a hundred days.

  “I could always wear them again,” I offered, shrugging my shoulders with confusion. Did she think that I would just throw away an outfit after wearing it?

  Hudson peered at me with wide eyes, her mouth gaping. “And why would you do that?” she asked, dumbfounded. Apparently she thought just that.

  “Why wouldn’t I do that?” I retorted, sipping my soda.

  Hudson looked back and forth between me and Armando, completely shocked with my suggestion. “Because the clothes will get dirty and worn,” she said, speaking each word slowly as if she were trying to explain common knowledge to a four-year-old.

  Armando chuckled, kissing her bare shoulder and smiling sweetly at her. “But, honey, that’s why they invented washers and dryers,” he said, rolling his eyes. He looked at me and gave me a private smile, the two of us sharing a mutual tolerance for Hudson’s ignorance.

  Hudson shuddered with disgust, her shoulders wiggling around as if she were shaking off imaginary dirt. “That’s still disgusting. Girls shouldn’t have to wear the same clothes over again. Not on my watch,” she said, whipping out her phone and texting. “Hurry up; we’ve got a lot more stores after this.” She grabbed up her latte, finished her drink, and stood up, indicating that we should follow.

  We stood up, threw away our trash, and left the food court, continuing our self-proclaimed mission. Sighing, I realized that at least this mission didn’t involve blood.

  ****

  Hudson’s unbearably loud shriek was loud enough to capture the attention of absolutely everyone in the mall. Frenetically, I quickly clamped my hand down over her mouth, silencing both her and my growing embarrassment. “Quiet, Hudson! Geez!” I whispered harshly, completely aware of the thousands of pairs of eyes that were burning holes through our clothing. I swear, Hudson’s shriek could have woken the dead. Seriously.

  Hudson just stared at me with wide eyes as Armando soothed the worried crowd and diverted their attention elsewhere. But by the lack of blush on his tan cheeks, I could tell that Hudson’s outcries were probably common to him, realizing that she most likely displayed embarrassing behavior on a usual day-to-day basis.

  When all attention was diminished, I carefully removed my hand away from Hudson’s mouth. “Wait! Don’t—!” Armando cried, but was soon interrupted by yet another one of Hudson’s blood-curdling shrieks, this one incredibly louder than the first. Now everyone was back to us, inquiring noisily about the cause of Hudson’s screaming. Some guy even threatened to call the police.

  “It’s alright, everyone!” Armando called out over the loud raucous flowing out from the crowd. “She is perfectly fine! She’s just having a nervous breakdown!” His last words were cut off by the crowd as they angrily displayed their aggravation over this noisy customer, marching closer to us and surrounding us closely. Several people were already on their phones, gabbing angrily to who-knows-who. “Please excuse her, everyone! She is very—”

  Armando was cut off yet again by not only the loud, angry crowd, but also by another one of Hudson’s shrilly screams. This one was even louder than the first two, even with my hand clamped down over her mouth. When someone yelled, “Put a sock in it!” I contemplated doing just that.

  Armando tried to silence her as well, pleading her to stop, as well as shoving away super-close angry-mob members. Soon, mall cops began making their appearances. Armando’s eyes widened with fear as they drew nearer. “It’s okay, everyone!” Armando yelled again, his Spanish accent weaving into his distressed words. “She will not scream again! She is fine!” He quickly grabbed Hudson’s wrist and began making his way through the irritated crowd, headed for the nearest exit. “Don’t worry, we’re leaving!” he yelled out during his hasty march. The angry mob yelled after him, some even throwing miscellaneous objects. Armando tried to dodge each item — though many came in contact with his back. “I apologize for the disturbance!” he called out lastly, his eyes full of remorse as he raced for the doors.

  I quickly followed after his hurried pace, not wanting to be the brunt of the citizens’ annoyed words and flying objects. It felt like eons before we finally emerged out of the mall, coming to a stop in front of the large doors. It was dark outside now, indicating that we had officially spent at least seven hours in the mall.

  Armando threw down the many shopping bags, the clothing crashing loudly to the concrete sidewalk. He grabbed onto Hudson’s shoulders and shook her gently, yet firmly, his stern eyes peering into hers. “Why. In. The. World. Would. You. Do. That?” he asked, each word producing an even bigger punch than the last.

  Hudson just stared at him innocently, the look of pure horror still grazing her pretty features. “Anjolie just told me that she hasn’t bought her homecoming dress yet,” she said, her words just barely over a whisper. Her eyes widened with even more shock, making her appear as if she had just seen a ghost.

  Groaning loudly, Armando quickly covered his face with his hands, yelling out Spanish curse words and other arrays of words without taking a single breath. By the way he was frantically waving his arms around — his eyes wild with menace — it was as if he were furiously chanting angry spells, his words quick and harsh. I could only
stare disbelievingly at him, realizing that this was the first time I’d ever seen him angry.

  Ignoring Armando’s fitful tantrum, Hudson turned her back to him and looked at me in astonishment. “I cannot believe that you haven’t bought your homecoming dress yet!” she cried, completely oblivious to Armando’s frantic motions going on behind her back. “You’re on Homecoming court! You should’ve bought your dress the day you found out!”

  I shrugged innocently, not really knowing how to respond. I was still in shock, watching as Armando marched around like a madman, yelling and spitting out angry Spanish words at the top of his lungs. The Tasmanian Devil had nothing on him right about now.

  Hudson sighed and tossed her long, chestnut hair over her shoulder, whipping out her phone and texting rapidly. “We have to get you a dress, Anj,” she said, her eyes not leaving the screen of her phone. “This time, we’ll go to one of my mom’s good friend’s stores. She sells the best dresses known to man.” She quickly shut her phone and shoved it into her purse. “We’ll go tonight!” she said smiling excitedly.

  I nodded slowly, my eyes still fixated on Armando’s tantrum. “Um… aren’t you worried about Armando?” I asked, nodding my head in his direction. He was pounding on the walls and yanking at his hair, his hands rolled up in tight fists as he continued yelling out indistinguishable words.

  Hudson just rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it,” was her nonchalant reply as she marched over to him, kissed his lips hastily — the action shutting him up completely — grabbed his wrist, and led him to the car. Once again, I was left following after them, trying to keep up with these strangely weird, semi-annoying, super cool people.

  ****

  At around midnight, I returned home, my hands full of shopping bags, my limbs exhausted, my thoughts running wild.

  Today was such a hectic day for me, even more hectic than several of my deadly missions combined. But strangely enough, it was one of the best days of my life. Not because I now have enough clothes to open a small store, and not because I finally got to get out of the house, but because I genuinely had fun. More fun than I’ve ever had in a long time. Hudson and Armando had to be the best company anyone could ever have. They were funny, witty, entertaining, and knew how to make any situation memorable. I hadn’t laughed that much since I was with Cameron the other day.

  After Hudson’s “nervous breakdown” and Armando’s “temper tantrum,” we went to the dress shop and managed to buy a four thousand dollar dress, Hudson’s treat this time. It was a long, floor length, cherry red, strapless dress that was covered in crystal beading and cinched at the waist, hugging my curves all the way to mid-thigh where it flared out, revealing the white lacey fabric that flowed out in billows over the floor. The dress was so long; Hudson demanded that I wear the silver, five-inch, strappy stilettos that she’d been eyeing for herself since she’d gotten there. I immediately fell in love with the dress, dubbing it as my favorite article of clothing among the bunch because it was so bright, so elegant, and so beautiful. And I knew that upon first glance, Cameron would love it, too.

  The warm thoughts of him took over my mind as I imagined the look on his face when he saw me in this dress. I immediately grew giddy with anticipation, wishing that Homecoming were tomorrow and not next week. I even contemplated wearing it to the picnic tomorrow that Hudson and Armando invited us both to, but decided against it. Olive would be there, and I’m pretty sure that if she witnessed Cameron drooling all over me, she would have both our heads. Not that I was afraid of her, or anything. I just didn’t want to see Cameron dead, is all.

  Chapter Forty Four

  Cameron

  I awoke, lying facedown on my bed, dressed in a black leather jacket, black T-shirt, and black jeans. My shoes were still on, as well as my gold watch and several chains. I guessed that Cam probably got back home pretty late last night and didn’t have enough time to change out of these clothes.

  Glancing over to my bedside table, I saw a note from Cam:

  Cameron,

  Out late last night. Crazy mission. No time to change. Sorry.

  Cam

  Figures.

  I got up, walked into the bathroom, and performed my morning rituals, escaping the hot, steamy room in less than ten minutes. I then went downstairs to grab breakfast.

  Dad and Mila weren’t going to be home until late tonight, so I had yet another day to do whatever I wanted. Though, yesterday I’d barely done anything resourceful — I just lazed around, eating and watching TV. Olive was busy, claiming she’d had a rough night Friday night and needed her rest, and Hudson and Armando were out with Anjolie all Saturday. Basically, I wasn’t invited to anything yesterday, thereby making my Saturday super boring. And it sucked because I blacked out before anything good came on TV.

  Today, I was determined to have fun. I was going to go to that picnic with Hudson, and Armando, and Anjolie, and Olive, and just enjoy myself with my good friends.

  Too bad this picnic was scheduled for five hours from now.

  I had to find something else to do before I died of boredom again. Sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of buttery toast sitting in front of me, I scanned the room, looking for something to do. When my eyes came to a rest on my dad’s video camera, an idea popped into my head. I quickly finished my toast and cleaned up my surroundings before grabbing up the camera and heading back up to my room.

  I was going to video chat with my other half.

  Giddy with excitement, I set up the camera on my desk, plugged it into my TV, waited for the live feedback to pop on the screen, and positioned the camera in front of the foot of my bed. As my mind raced with questions and talking points that I could eventually say to my other half, I focused the camera on myself, observing myself on the TV screen. Soon, I was ready.

  I hit record and began talking.

  “Uh… hey, Cam,” I began, clearing my throat. “It’s me, Cameron.” I immediately regretted saying that because duh, he already knew I was Cameron. Shaking away the embarrassment, I continued talking, letting the words pour out of my mouth. “Anyway, what’s up? I hear you’re a really cool guy and everyone seems to like you so much. I mean, Armando can’t stop raving about you, Olive seems to, like, adore you, and Anjolie makes you sound like you’re some no-nonsense kind of guy.” I paused to run a hand through my non-gelled hair. “Basically, you sound pretty awesome. It’d be nice to know you, Cam. Really.” I shifted position on my bed, thinking I looked stupid, sitting there, leg crossed over the other. I probably looked like some loser. Once I felt comfortable in a cooler sitting position, I continued the one-sided conversation. “Tell me about yourself, Cam. What do you like to do on your free time, you know, when you’re not doing missions? Do you have any hobbies? Do you like music? Are you smart, like me? What are your favorite TV shows? Any favorite movies? Books? What’s your favorite food? Your favorite color? Anything. Just tell me everything about you because I’d seriously like to know who I’m sharing my boxers and shaving cream with.” I laughed at my silly joke.

  “Anyway, there’s nothing really special about me,” I continued, rubbing my hands together. “You know my dad, Mr. Workaholic. He’s alright. And Mila’s pretty nice. I’m sure you know my best friend, Armando. He’s the coolest guy I know. He’s like a brother to me. And Hudson’s like a sister. A really, really hot sister, but a sister, nonetheless. And Olive, well, Olive is amazing.” I felt a small smile creep onto my lips as I thought about her. “She’s everything a guy could ask for. She’s funny, smart, witty, and faithful. I’m in love with her, you know. She’s my everything. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost her. I think I’d go insane.” I chuckled softly to myself, knowing how true those words were.

  “And Anjolie…” I paused, thinking pensively about what I was going to say about her. It was hard trying to put words to how great of a girl she was. She was so different, so unique, so… out of this world, that there weren’t possibly any words to describe he
r. “Anjolie… well, Anjolie’s different. You know her. How else am I supposed to express how utterly fantastic she is? She’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me — to any of us, in that case. She’s so… raw, you know, yet, so delicate in her own way. Something about her just makes me want to smile.” I shrugged, completely at a loss of words. “I can’t find any other words that could express the way I feel about her. She’s… special to me. That’s all I can say.”

  I allowed a moment of silence to blanket the room as I thought about what I had just said. I realized then that I did care for Anjolie, more than I should, and frankly, that was kinda freaking me out.

  I quickly changed the subject, shaking the thoughts away. “Anyway, those are just the people in my life. Nothing cool about them, really. I do enjoy playing the piano. I love anything Italian. I don’t so much like reality TV shows. Have you ever read Catch 22?”

  For the next few hours, I stayed there, conversing with the camera about any and all things nonsense. I just couldn’t stop my rambling. It was as if I were on a mission to give as much Cameron information to Cam as possible. The camera soon became my therapist; I vented on and on about all aspects of my life, lying supine on my bed and gazing up at the ceiling, talking a mile-a-minute about random topics.

  If my phone hadn’t rung, interrupting my interminable venting, I would’ve talked on and on about the difference between a cup being half-full or half-empty. Reluctantly, I snatched up my phone and answered, “Hello?”

  “Uh, hey… Cameron, it’s Anjolie,” came her soft, smooth-as-silk voice on the other line.

  I immediately sat up. “Oh, hey, Anjolie, what’s up?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. Suddenly, the memory of all the sweet things I’d said about her came crashing into my mind, clouding my vision.