By Ana Engelbrecht
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“Did you just reach in my pocket…?”
Eva screeched at Willow.
“No, girl. Of course not! I was
reaching for another DRINK!” Willow raised a decorated class of fruity alcohol.
The disco lights caught a gleam of rage in her eye.
“I felt someone’s hand in my jean
pocket, though.”
Half of the money she stole from Eva
she had pinned on Kate. “Katie’s been real suspicious lately, girl. I saw her
eyeing your wallet the last time we were here,” Willow would lie every time.
She didn’t feel the need to make up a different scapegoat each night. They
would all drink away any second thoughts and forget them by morning, anyway,
she figured.
Eva turned and slapped Kate so loud
the crowd of people nearby stopped dancing to stare. “Katherine, you think
you can just steal money from me and I wouldn’t know?”
“Why would I steal money from you?”
Katie scoffed in disbelief.
Willow could only imagine how the
bickering and arguing went, how big of a dent it would leave in their already
fake, cut-and-pasted friendship. She couldn’t help but laugh when she stepped
out, the freezing air hitting her lungs hard.
She laughed her way to the clothing
store around the corner.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” her voice rose an
octave. “I’ll take this one, please.”
“Oh, I see! A popular choice. It is
quite pricey, though.”
The saleslady brought the fur coat to
the counter with care, eyeing her new customer. Willow eyed her back, lightly
slapping the payment in front of her all in cash.
“Out of four hundred?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Where on Earth would a young girl
like you get this much cash?”
“I have my ways, ma’am.” Willow
shrugged, challenging the lady with her eyes. It wasn’t her business that the
money was stolen, just so long as it paid for the product. It wasn’t her crime
to apprehend.
Once outside, Willow stopped to wrap
herself in the hot pink, faux fur glory. She had hoped Eva would see her, all
warm and dolled up with her money. She wanted her to get a taste of the
unfairness, the injustice.
She started jogging further down the
sidewalk, waiting for when Eva and her posse would come for her. They had to
figure it out eventually. Why would her own friend steal money from her? They
were all filthy rich. An outsider like Willow had much more of an incentive.
Tonight was finally the night they would realize.
“Give me back my money, you fake
bitch!” Eva screamed in Willow’s direction from a mile behind, the sound of her
red pumps punching the concrete getting closer.
“It's not yours anymore, babe!”
Lying to her was like a ballroom
dance. Step 1 , 2, 3. Agree with her here. To the left 4, 5, 6. Plant a tiny
lie there. Never step on your partner’s foot. Don’t let the anger show too
much.
As Willow’s bell bottom jeans swept
the concrete with every fast motion, she felt her heart race just the same. It
was exhilarating, making them angry. She wrapped herself tighter in the stolen
material.
Eva was approaching. Willow made a
break, bolting across the congested traffic. Cars honked their horns at the
scene. As she made it all the way across, the traffic sped up, blocking Eva’s
path.
Willow couldn’t help but stand and
smile at them from across the road. How powerless they must’ve felt, she
thought. Hilarious.
About the Author
Ana Engelbrecht is currently a Dual Degree student earning her associate degree in her last two years of high school. She enjoys studying foreign languages, learning K-pop lyrics and playing with her cats and dogs. She can be found stretching and dancing in her living room and drinking matcha tea lattes. This is Ana’s debut piece, all productions being from her Creative Writing class taught by Melissa Grunow, another great author. Most notably, she can have a full conversation in Korean with only a slight struggle.