Page 6 of Eyes Like Angel

“Oh, sorry for my lack of untimely manner,Your Highness,” I said, rolling my eyes, huffing.

Instead, my finger pushed the button and installed the air freshener inside since my sports car smelled like hot piss and trash. Not that I care as long as nobody gets near to my brand new sports car.

“By the way, you also didn’t bother to ask me if I’m okay or not,” she continued, whining.

“Wouldn’t I like to know,” I said in sarcasm, adjusting the new leather chair. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your high school sweetheart boyfriend by now since you graduated, like what, four months ago?”

Madison’s shoulders shrugged. “He’s very busy going to college. He’s been applying with his thesis and his application. And he’s been taking exams to enter the prestigious institution.”

“Where to?”

Her shoulders bopped. “I don’t know.”

“Have you read his thesis?”

Her tongue clicked. “I never bother to ask.”

“And if you do ask, what do you think of his thesis and his work?”

“Why? Are you interested in his thesis or something? What’s the big deal?”

My shoulders shrugged. “Never met the guy.”

Her brows knitted. “Oh, sure. What’s your point?”

“Well, guess he sorted out his priorities more than you,” I answered.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion,” she spat, mouth curled to disgust.

“And I didn’t ask for your companionship, either. So that makes two of us.”

She huffed, like a wolf unable to huff and puff the brick house. “I thought you’re going to be there for me. I asked you to be my date for tonight’s party. Show you off to my girlfriends.”

My eyes squinted without turning around. This was getting fucking ridiculous. What are we, in high school? Madison and I hang out for a month. She couldn’t possibly think I’m serious about her. It never occurred to me that Madison’s desperation to put a brave face and demand. It also never occur to me she acted like a little girl whine for an expensive makeup at a beauty store. I know girls—older women, too—knew what they acquire to suit their personal taste—what they want to do first thing when they wake up, what to eat or drink for breakfast, what perfume they wear or how to style clothes and cosmetics and beauty supplies to accentuate. Every girl’s reply and emotion varies, but they all shared something in common, one where I can’t fathom.

Their mood swings. Flushed faces and sharpened eyes and knotted brows drew deeper and growling voice. Cool, elegance in their posture became stiff and rigid. Grating tones were coming in each time words spilled from their lips, growing louder and louder like Madison’s. It doesn’t matter how many predominantly women had tricks on their sleeves, they weren’t gratified to what I gifted them. They were ever so thankless and reckless. Madison is not far from other girls I conversed with or shared contact numbers with, they’re born and cut from the same cloth, speaking in a same language.

Their unchangeable attitude, just different faces and clothing choices set me off. Whether they’re stunning or intelligent, their minds went on the same route once their emotions ran off into the wilderness. Logical sense went flying off the handle; chaos reigned, like how mothers were.

Like the animals in the zoo have gone wild and dangerous.

Sure they’re all pretty, but with a mouth like that, who needs a teacher or a nagging mother to give a good scolding?

Sky brightened to yellow-orange hues, clouds gathered in, and not once my brain registered the information from Madison’s droning monologue as I adjusted the heater for a perfect temperature. “I’m surprised you’re not freezing off to death,” I replied, never bothered to answer her expectations.

Cars and vans headed out the wide parking lot, leaving us. And others parked vehicles, which I assumed, it belongs to the church staff.

“You’re not inviting me?” she assumed, her body shivered at a tender wind.

My flaxen brow flicked. “What?”

I pivoted to see her tiring state, skinny arms tightly crossed like she’s about to break her joints from keeping herself warm so securely. How did the hell did she manage to keep herself standing without passing out from a cold? Not to mention braless. Pinkish, pointed nipples are peaking through a thin fabric on her white tank top, screaming for my eyes to dart at her centered chest.

“To a party,” she whined. “Are you going at a shindig without me?” A typical shade of boorish blue eyes ogled at me, anticipating.

My back leaned against the car door after I shut it, car vibrated to set a perfect temperature.

“Don’t know if I will,” I answered, listless, and shot Madison with a blank stare. “Don’t know if I can go.”