Rachel and I looking straight at her.
Her face freezes, looking confused at first, and then like a light bulb switching on, she nudges her friend, Steph.
Steph looks over at us, and they both grin a wicked mean grin. “Bitch.”
I get up out of my chair. My nails are almost all done except for the pinky on my right hand. Rachel gets up, too. We pay our bill, and start to leave.
On the way out, I hear one of them say, “She’s pretty, but she’s not all that.”
At that point, Rachel goes back to our station, “Forgot my shake,” she tells the manicurist. “Thanks. Great job, we have to leave early though. My friend Summer Jones has an important date with Astor Fairway, you know.” She walks by Nicole and Steph’s stations and smiles widely. “Whom she gets to rock his world and lick his face all the time. Jealous much? Bitches!” She pours her milkshake over one of their heads and quickly walks out.
Rachel joins me outside, while I hear the bitches call Rachel a bitch and criticize her looks, and I laugh while we walk away briskly.
“You’d think by the time they’re in their thirties, they’d know better than to act like a bunch of insecure catty high school witches,” Rachel said. “Promise me when we get to be in our thirties, we won’t be like that.”
“And I thought high school had mean girls,” I say.
“Guess they never grow up, only uglier, older, and more bitter.”
“Guess so.”
We’re so close to the Academy now, I’m almost relieved that we could get away from all that. What had started as a pleasant day, became ugly because of a few bitter women.
“Don’t let them get you down,” says Rachel. “They’re just jealous they don’t have someone like Astor in their lives. He really did look amazing on television.”
“Yes,” I respond.
“Are you going to see him when he gets back into town?”
“We’re still friends, of course.”
“He wants more than that, Summer.”
“I know, but it’s complicated.”
“Oh, holy crapness!” Rachel shouts. “Who would do such a low thing?”
“What?” I turn away from her and look in the direction she’s looking.
The windshield of my car has been shattered, and someone had spray-painted in neon orange paint, the word, “Slutty Bitch” on there.
“Can’t be those women back there. They couldn’t get here that fast to do that.”
“Look there!” Rachel points at the glass doors to the Academy’s entrance.
The same neon orange spray paint had smeared the entire double doors and walls of the entrance. “Slut, Copycat, Stupid Bitches, Wannabe, Glad You’re Dead, Close Down. Whore, Hope You Shut Down, Unoriginal, I Couldn’t Care Less If You Died, Call Yourself an Acting School?” and more obscenities all over.
Rachel takes a good look at this, and let out a deep sigh. “I thought those bitches back at the salon were bad, this is ten times worse.”
I’m speechless. Cyber-attacks are one thing, but now these bullies had come out hoping to physically harm me and my property.
I’m glad Rachel is with me. I wouldn’t know what I would do if she wasn’t. I probably would have freaked out, especially since I am already in such an emotional state.
Rachel has her phone out, taking pictures of the car, of the doors, the walls, and the Academy. “I’m sending this to the police,” she says. “This is not acceptable. We’re not going to take this shit from anyone.”
Shortly after she sent off the photos, she gets a call. It’s Nat.
“Yes, she’s here. She’s fine. Summer’s a tough girl…the bullies won’t get to her.” She hands me the phone.
“Summer?” Nat’s soothing voice asks. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I am,” I respond. “My car isn’t, though. The windshield’s been shattered by a brick, and the Academy looks like a graffiti artist’s latest project.”
Nat laughs. “Good to see you still have your sense of humor.”
“Trying,” I respond.
“When they insult you
Her face freezes, looking confused at first, and then like a light bulb switching on, she nudges her friend, Steph.
Steph looks over at us, and they both grin a wicked mean grin. “Bitch.”
I get up out of my chair. My nails are almost all done except for the pinky on my right hand. Rachel gets up, too. We pay our bill, and start to leave.
On the way out, I hear one of them say, “She’s pretty, but she’s not all that.”
At that point, Rachel goes back to our station, “Forgot my shake,” she tells the manicurist. “Thanks. Great job, we have to leave early though. My friend Summer Jones has an important date with Astor Fairway, you know.” She walks by Nicole and Steph’s stations and smiles widely. “Whom she gets to rock his world and lick his face all the time. Jealous much? Bitches!” She pours her milkshake over one of their heads and quickly walks out.
Rachel joins me outside, while I hear the bitches call Rachel a bitch and criticize her looks, and I laugh while we walk away briskly.
“You’d think by the time they’re in their thirties, they’d know better than to act like a bunch of insecure catty high school witches,” Rachel said. “Promise me when we get to be in our thirties, we won’t be like that.”
“And I thought high school had mean girls,” I say.
“Guess they never grow up, only uglier, older, and more bitter.”
“Guess so.”
We’re so close to the Academy now, I’m almost relieved that we could get away from all that. What had started as a pleasant day, became ugly because of a few bitter women.
“Don’t let them get you down,” says Rachel. “They’re just jealous they don’t have someone like Astor in their lives. He really did look amazing on television.”
“Yes,” I respond.
“Are you going to see him when he gets back into town?”
“We’re still friends, of course.”
“He wants more than that, Summer.”
“I know, but it’s complicated.”
“Oh, holy crapness!” Rachel shouts. “Who would do such a low thing?”
“What?” I turn away from her and look in the direction she’s looking.
The windshield of my car has been shattered, and someone had spray-painted in neon orange paint, the word, “Slutty Bitch” on there.
“Can’t be those women back there. They couldn’t get here that fast to do that.”
“Look there!” Rachel points at the glass doors to the Academy’s entrance.
The same neon orange spray paint had smeared the entire double doors and walls of the entrance. “Slut, Copycat, Stupid Bitches, Wannabe, Glad You’re Dead, Close Down. Whore, Hope You Shut Down, Unoriginal, I Couldn’t Care Less If You Died, Call Yourself an Acting School?” and more obscenities all over.
Rachel takes a good look at this, and let out a deep sigh. “I thought those bitches back at the salon were bad, this is ten times worse.”
I’m speechless. Cyber-attacks are one thing, but now these bullies had come out hoping to physically harm me and my property.
I’m glad Rachel is with me. I wouldn’t know what I would do if she wasn’t. I probably would have freaked out, especially since I am already in such an emotional state.
Rachel has her phone out, taking pictures of the car, of the doors, the walls, and the Academy. “I’m sending this to the police,” she says. “This is not acceptable. We’re not going to take this shit from anyone.”
Shortly after she sent off the photos, she gets a call. It’s Nat.
“Yes, she’s here. She’s fine. Summer’s a tough girl…the bullies won’t get to her.” She hands me the phone.
“Summer?” Nat’s soothing voice asks. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I am,” I respond. “My car isn’t, though. The windshield’s been shattered by a brick, and the Academy looks like a graffiti artist’s latest project.”
Nat laughs. “Good to see you still have your sense of humor.”
“Trying,” I respond.
“When they insult you
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