Horror of Horrors with Extra Foam

寎

Plopping onto my bed for the summer, my head was spinning from our flurry of activities. After Danny and I had arrived in LA, my aunt had taken us for a quick bite to eat. Then, we’d rushed off to our orientation meeting at the California Forensic Science Institute. They’d crammed our heads with so much knowledge and details; I was ready to brain-vomit.

Glancing at my watch, I debated over taking a nap or shower. Sniffing under my armpits, the 90 degree weather of L.A. decided it for me. Plus, without my shoes on now, my socks after running a marathon smelled better.

Sitting up, I rummaged through my suitcase for something cooler. When you wear a lot of black, it becomes hard to find enough items for a complete wardrobe. Taking out a black barely-knee high pleated skirt and a white baby-T-shirt that read "geek" with brackets, I laid them on the bed as first picks.

Picking up the picture frame now lying on top of my suitcase, I smiled looking at our family picture. People never thought my parents and I were related, for they seemed to be the perfect suburbia couple. Then you had me, the Goth girl standout. My mom was originally feared infertile due to Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome, so I was their miracle child after five years of trying to have kids. Over-protective didn’t begin to describe my childhood, which hastened my entry into the Goth world. Still, I knew they loved me and they only meant well.

Putting down the frame to its new home on my dresser, I grabbed the towel Aunt Linda had laid out and headed for my own private shower.

Doing my business quickly, I came out wrapped in my towel to find Fluffy on my skirt. Aptly named, this big white furball of a cat was purring contentedly. Meanwhile, he was turning my black skirt into a mixed color cashmere with the amount of fur being shed.

My cell-phone went off and I quickly answered it, “Hello?”

“Hey, I’m getting ready to head over, what street does your aunt live on?” Drew asked.

Glancing at the clock, I realized that time had slipped away! He was due here in less than fifteen minutes.

“Oh right, she’s on Myrtle, the house with the pink fence. Number 121,” I replied.

“Pink? Pink fence?” Drew asked dubiously.

A grin breaking across my face, “Yeah,” I confirmed. “She accidentally ordered the wrong color and they wouldn’t give her a refund. So, she used it.”

Laughing, “See ya soon,” Drew said before hanging up.

Throwing my phone on the bed, I snatched up Mr. Fluffy and gave him a quick squeeze. Simply hanging there purring, I set him on the ground and grabbed my clothes.

Crap! I thought to myself, as I saw my skirt completely furred on one side. Seeing Fluffy eyeing my suitcase, I bent over and closed the lid before he could lie on that too.

Grabbing my stuff, I hurriedly got dress. Thank goodness Auntie had already left out an anticipated much needed lint roller. I quickly got most of the white cat hair off of my outfit. Blowing drying my jet-black hair quickly, I debated whether to leave it down or braids. Deciding to let it be, I finished fixing my 50’s Bettie Page bangs. Glancing at my watch, I frantically looked for my makeup bag. With only about five minutes left, I put on some black eye-liner and mascara, and dragged on my pin-up red lipstick.

Ding, Dong!

“Crap, aren’t boys usually supposed to be late!” I muttered to myself. Running out of my room, I grabbed my Transformers lunch-box purse. Stuffing the spare house key inside, I ran downstairs.

---

Taking a big bite, I closed my eyes in satisfaction. Slowly opening them, I could see Drew trying not to turn red from laughing so hard in front of me. It wasn’t a good shade for him against his tanned Asian skin, black hair lightened with highlights and white t-shirt.

Swallowing my first bite of my treasured In-N-Out® double-cheeseburger, I took a big gulp of Dr. Pepper®. Giving him a big grin, I shrugged. “What, never seen a girl enjoy her food before?”

Catching his breath, Drew flashed his pearly whites as he gave a grin. Chuckling, he replied, “Man, you put Wes to shame. You any good at buffet eatin’ contests?”

Nearly choking, “Who told you?!” I asked while my mouth still had a bit of my second bite left. Now his face WAS completely red.

Throwing a fry at him, “Smart-aleck. Ok, so I have a reputation of being a buffet queen, I earned that title fair and square.” Wiggling my eyebrows, “Wes needing a challenge?”

“Nah,” Drew replied, finally turning a normal shade of flesh color. “He pigs out enough on his own without help. Guy loves food but gains like a crazy mofo. So he’s always moanin’ this and that and on some diet. You’d swear he’s a girl.” At the last statement, I simply raised my eyebrow.

“Well, ya know, I mean, a guy, like dieting…it’s just…” Drew quickly stammered and trailed off, having realized the pit he’d dug. I simply laughed and offered him a fry.

Squinting in fake anger, “I’ll teach you to mock me!” he ranted and threw my fry back. Giggling, I shsshed him fervently as the fast-food other guests were beginning to look annoyed.

So, “How’s the band’s album comin’?” I asked. Unable to resist, I took huge bites in effort to wolf the cheeseburger down.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Drew shrugged in an effort to look nonchalant. “Eh, with Dewei getting’ married, it’s all kinda screwy. I mean, we’re all happy the dude’s gettin’ married, but…well, ya know, kinda cramps our time.”

Gathering publicity with their tour a couple of months ago, they’d caught the interest of a local independent music label.

Slurping the rest of my drink out of the cup, I shook it and listened to the ice rattle. It was a 32 oz; which only put a dent in my thirst when eating.

“Here”, Drew said as he grabbed the cup out of my hand. Jogging over to the soda fountain, he filled it up as I admired the view of him in his faded jeans. He was athletic and lean, having served as a running back in high school football. He would have gotten a college scholarship if he hadn’t torn out his knee his senior year.

“Mucho gracias,” I said with relish as I quickly downed a quarter of the liquid. Drew’s phone went off, and I turned my attention back to finishing the sopping ketchup mess of fries left. I perked back up as I heard my name mentioned.

“Um, ya know, I uh, really don’t know May. Sunny isn’t kinda into that thing. Here, ask her yourself,” Drew stammered as he thrust me his phone.

My eyebrows lowering in confusion, Drew just shrugged as I took his cell.

“Hey May, ask me what?” I asked.

A refined voice with the quality sound of boarding schools answered back at me. “Well, so, I need your help Sunny. Dewei is going to have all the band members as his groomsmen. My best friend Amanda is going to be my maid of honor, and I have to have at least one other girl. Puhhhlease, can you be a bridesmaid? The other options really are not viable.”

I felt my stomach do a flip and I pushed my fries away. Now, I know most girls love to be bridesmaid. I do not. I hate dressing up in those horrible dresses, usually pink or purple, with flowers and heels. Platforms, not a problem, but get me in those stiletto heels and you’re asking for a collision nightmare.

“Uhh, well, May, uh…” I stuttered, trying to get my bearings to refuse.

“Sunny, you’re my only hope, puuuuhlease??? Otherwise, I have to ask this second cousin twice removed whose a hideous snob and threatens to take over as my wedding planner,” May pleaded.

Looking up, I could see Drew trying not to smile. He whispered, “If you can’t handle it, then I’m not wearing the tux.”

My eyes squinted in irritation. He had me there. Sighing, I caved, “Alright, alright, I’ll do it. But if you try to put pastel pink or purple on me, I’ll make your wedding a nightmare.”

Wincing, I quickly pulled the phone away from my ear as May squealed. Groaning, I handed the phone back to Drew. I placed my head on the table with a moan as visions of hideous bridesmaid dresses danced through my mind. What have I got myself into?

---

Turning around, I tried to cajole myself that at least the color wasn’t bad. More correctly, there WAS no color. Heading straight to the wedding store after In-N-Out to bridesmaid dress shop after May picked me up, I was having a hard time not up-chucking my favorite meal.

Sitting in a plush chair, May fit right into the elegant and super expensive store. Her long blond hair hung straight over her fitted button-up shirt and slacks. Even her petite little red heels screamed classy. I felt very out of place.

Taking me seriously on the dress color threat, May had had the seamstress only bring out black gowns. After trying on half a dozen dresses, I was almost ready to swear I’d just wear a guy’s tuxedo.

This one was a floor-length sheath dress with a halter top. It had a winding silver streak that started at the bust and curled all the way down and around me to the hem. It actually wasn’t that bad. Still, the tulle was already itching up a storm.

Since I knew it wasn’t going to get better, I resigned myself to this one. Nodding my head, “This’ll do,” I muttered.

“Great!” May exclaimed, clapping her hands a couple of times. You’d think watching this blond right now that she was another one of the rich fake snobby L.A. girls who’d ridiculed when I was a pasty scrappy little girl. You could hardly tell by looking at her that she’d gone through some rough crap at the hands of her dad and former fiancé.

While I’d loved visiting my aunt growing up, it had been torturous going to the beach and seeing people wince at how white I was with all my dark hair. I could still hear the girls snicker at my very flat one-piece even after hitting puberty. They’d flaunt past our beach towels with their tanned, oiled and buxom bikini-clad bodies while pointing and laughing at me. I refused to go to the beach after I was fourteen.

I shook my head to bring my thoughts out of the awkward teenage years into the present. I’d zoned and missed what May had been telling me. I nodded and smiled, hoping to catch up with her next words.

“Amanda said she was fine with anything you picked out,” May continued. Turning to the seamstress to place the others for both of us, I waddled back to the dressing room. Changing back into my “normal” clothes, I did a quick grin as the dressing attendant once again did a double take.

Most of the clients were Beverly Hills black credit card holders with money to burn. May’s mother had insisted covering all the formal attire for the men and women. While May had recently won a lawsuit that made her extremely rich, she was hesitant to spend much.

Linking my arm through May’s, I practically dragged her out of the shop, “Now, before I killed someone, where is the nearest Starbucks?”

Laughing, May made us a do a walking-U-turn on the sidewalk to head in the opposite direction down Melrose. “Well, that would be this way unless you want to walk a couple of miles.”

Having originally met May at a concert in Northern California for Drew & Dewei’s band “Risen Warriors”, we’d quickly bonded over our love of Starbucks.

We had to maneuver around a lot of people, mostly girls, on the sidewalk. Apparently we weren’t good enough for them to yield concrete. May had grown up in the atmosphere, but with a live soured with verbal and physical abuse. Running away from her dad’s violent controlling grip, she’d learned a lesson in economy.

“Oh, thank goodness, I don’t think I could go another step,” I moaned as we entered the Starbucks café. I blinked rapidly at how a commercialized store could look so different depending on location. In San Francisco, there was a blend of life crowding the small space with students taking up whole tables with books and their laptops; to philosophers duking it out in conversations with their hands gesturing wildly; to the alternative scene silently rocking out on their headphones while reading.

Now, I’d walked into a scene off of Sex and the City meets Beverly Hills. Everyone was perfectly manicured and coiffured while delicately sipping their varied but similar non-fat foam drinks. Some had smug looks on their faces as they were apparently one-upping the person before them with some new trinket. Others wore expressions of haughty disbelief while sharing some juicy gossip with the other socialites. I could handle all that, until I was suddenly aware of breathing in the cloud of their gathered perfumes.

Immediately clamping my mouth shut, I lurched back out the door. Taking a gasping huge breath of the smoggy but perfume free L.A. air, I barely escaped another asthma attack.

Looking slightly perturbed, May quickly followed me out. “Ok, I know your aversions to those snobs, to which I whole-heartedly agree, but isn’t this taking it a little too far?” I could hear the irritation sneaking into May’s voice at my sudden retreat.

Feeling my chest still tight from the perfume irritation, I fumbled with my lunchbox to get to my inhaler. With all my haste, I inadvertently spilled its content on the ground. I groaned and quickly bent over to scoop up my lipstick rolling away. Dumping the stuff back in, I stayed squatted, while I took a puff on my inhaler.

“Oh,” I heard May gasp. “Are you alright?!” She asked as she squatted down next to me.

Nodding, I closed my eyes and felt my chest expand to normal. May quietly kept her arm around me, rubbing small circles on my back that reminded me of my mom when I’d had the flu.

Standing up, “Allergies to perfume,” I finally said. “It was like walking into the perfume section of a department store in there.”

Her lips forming a perfect “oh” shape, May blushed a little. “Yeah, they tend to drench themselves to hide the smell of jealousy and alcohol,” she quipped.

Laughing, I winced a little as it hurt my recovering lungs. “Good one,” I said as I smiled. “Now, I have a splitting headache and REALLY need some coffee. Moving to open my lunch-box, May put out her hand to stop me.

“Please, it’s on me. Least I can do,” May said with a grimace.

“Oh, you’re not getting off that easy,” I retorted.

A look of bewilderment and worry crossed May’s face.

With a grin, “Getting’ me to wear a bridesmaid dress is worth this whole MONTH in coffee,” I joked.

Her face breaking into a huge grin, May threw back her head as she laughed out loud and startled a couple passer-bys.

“I’ll get you a gift card,” May retorted, “and you can pick your OWN stores to go in. Unless you have a thing for paramedics that I need to warn Drew about.”

“Nah,” I replied, “Just into hot Asian rockers.”

Laughing still, “What do you want?” May managed to ask.

“Venti black coffee, dark roast. No cream or sugar, extra hot.” I replied automatically.

“Seriously, nothing else in it??” May questioned.

“Why ruin a perfectly good coffee,” I replied.

Sharking her head, May ventured back into Starbucks as I waited outside.

I pulled my phone out to check the time. Crap, it’s already 7:17, I thought. It was summer, and I forgot it stayed darker out here in June. I could feel the exhaustion hitting from having run around since the flight early this morning.

Catching the blinking light in the top left of my palm pilot, I looked at the alert. “One new text message”. Maneuvering to my inbox, I saw an unread text from Danny.

Danny: You surviving? We grabbin’ coffee b 4 work?

I switched over to my instant messenger application to see if Danny was online. Seeing the familiar little icon, I quickly punched in my reply.

Sunny: Barely. Im now bmaid 4 May 4 weddin. Just got dress n Melrose.

Danny: *GASP!!*

Sunny: Which part? Bmaid, dress or Melrose?

Danny: LOL, ALL!

Sunny: Ur askin’ 4 a beatn.

Danny: This gonna b good.

Sunny: It gets better. I volunterd u 4 drunk female guest duty.

Danny: U r kiddin!

Sunny: Lol, nope! Wed required invites 2 some snobbies May said. U play babysitter. Nothin’ they like btr than free booze n hot man.

Danny: U r so cruel!!!

Sunny: Revenge is sweet. I suffer. U suffer.

Danny: I’ll remember that. Gotta go. 7pm at campus SB?

[translation: SB = Starbucks]

Sunny: C ya!

I felt immensely better having informed Danny of his impending co-torturous duties. It only got better as May finally came out of Starbucks with my much awaited and needed caffeine.

---

Author’s Note:

Thanks everybody for your reviews and your patience. To be honest, a lot happened in my life and I just wasn’t feeling the vibe on this story yet. I finally felt the urge to write the next chapter. Hope you still like it and will continue to read. Take care!

Chapter 1 – Review Replies

Elisefey – Thanks, it does bring a little nice change or introduction doesn’t it? The “meeting scenes” are hard to write I find, so I felt like I was cheating a little, lol…

Misoshiru – Glad you like the sequel so far! Danny is a kick to write. Ever get to look at the pictures?

Aqua Revolver – Almost had me fooled with your “Gah!” Though you were gonna give a bad review, lol… I’ll try not to make it too sickly sweet ;)

Xjennnny – Thanks, glad you liked the first chapter!

Aurora borealis - That’s encouraging to hear, hopefully the rest is as good as the first chapter for you.

TuneOut - That’s high praise indeed, thank you!!

I Murder On Impulse – Your wish is my command :)