04 | Will I ever have any joy?

The ringtone of my phone interrupts the silence of my room. I look at the screen and see that it's Carly, my best friend.

I swipe the green icon to answer the call.

I don't even get a chance to say "hello" before she starts talking.

"Tonight you and I are going dancing. I want to see you in a dress and heels. We'll get ready at my place and then walk to the Hunter so we can drink since we won't need to drive. No arguments. I'll pick you up at nine," and she hangs up.

I couldn't have found a stranger best friend.

I put the phone back where it was before, that is, thrown somewhere on my bed. As far as my first day went, it wasn't too bad, aside from James and the fact that I wasn't even looking for a job. I'm tempted to prepare some fake medical documents stating my insanity or that I have an extremely contagious and deadly disease, then bring them to work and leave them sticking out of my bag and wait for James to read them. Just to pass the time and get some revenge. Yesterday, he gave me such dirty looks that I'm amazed I'm still alive.

No, seriously, I think it's better not to turn my back on him tomorrow before he tries to put a plastic bag over my head and suffocate me. He looks like the type who could do that and would know where to hide the body. I can already see the headlines.

Young girl killed just for being too nice. The father claims the life insurance money saying, "My daughter never paid me back for the money I lent her to get a tattoo she never had the chance to get. And of course, there are also the emotional damages."

Oh God, I overthink things too much.

It's seven in the evening, I have two hours to choose an outfit, shoes, match a purse, prepare a bag to take to Carly's, and take a shower.

I'll never make it.

I take a deep breath and shout, "Mom, come to my room, I'm in danger!" I hear hurried footsteps on the stairs and then the door to my room is opened by my mother, who is holding a slipper in her hand.

Maybe I overdid it.

"What happened? Did you kill someone? Did someone kill you? But then again, you're alive. Know that you're an adult now, so if you really killed someone, you go to jail and not me."

Her gaze quickly scans the entire room. When she sees that everything is in order, she furrows her brow. "What's the danger?" she asks, suspiciously.

I sigh and give a apologetic smile. "Carly's picking me up at nine and I don't know what dress to choose for going dancing tonight. Can you help me?"

My mother puts the slipper on the floor and puts it back on her foot. She lets out an exasperated sigh – containing all the regret of wanting to become a mother – and sits on my bed. "Was it your decision to wear a dress or did Carly threaten you?"

"Carly threatened me."

"I'm growing to love that girl more and more," she says dreamily.

I give her a dirty look and don't comment.

My mother gets up and opens the closet, jumping back when a pile of clothes I should have neatly put away falls at her feet. Oops.

She turns to look at me, clearly annoyed, and starts looking through the hanging clothes.

Oh God, I really asked my mother for help with what to wear. I must be truly insane. It's too late to come to my senses now.

"Let's see... not this one, not that one. This one's too fancy, this one's too plain..." my mother starts saying as she sorts through the clothes on hangers.

"This one's perfect!" she exclaims as she pulls out a dress from the closet.

It's black with some lace in certain areas. I didn't even know I had it.

It's probably one of those dresses my mom and Carly bought for me without me knowing, hoping that I'd wear it someday.

Along with the dress, my mother pairs a pair of black heels and a matching purse.

I take a shower and, after drying my hair, straighten it.

At least my platinum blonde hair will stand out immediately against a black dress.

I'm one of those rare people who are considered albino. In the summer, I have to be careful not to stay out in the sun for too long because, due to the lack of melanin in my body, I might have problems in the future. That's why I prefer the mountains to the sea and why I'm three hundred sixty-five, occasionally three hundred sixty-six, days a year as white as beaten egg whites.

Maybe it's my brain that's been beaten. But whatever.

I hear two rings on my cell phone and then the caller hangs up. Then another ring and again silence. That means Carly has arrived. I grab everything I need and head downstairs.

⸻ ❝ ❞ ⸻

"Explain to me again why you decided to go dancing on a Monday knowing that I'm working now," I rant at Carly. I only remembered this small detail too late. Not that she gave me a chance to argue on the phone. And the worst part is that my parents even let me go!

"Don't complain. They told you if your drawings are decent, you'll design the tattoos. And you draw wonderfully perfectly magnificently incredibly well! Even tired and with symptoms of a hangover, you wouldn't mess up," she pinches my cheek.

I change the subject. "How long did you say it would take to get there? I hate walking in heels."

She turns to me. "Relax. It's ten minutes at most."

While we continue talking, I risk falling to the ground. When I look down to figure out what caused it, I see that my right foot, specifically the heel of my right shoe, is stuck. In a damn manhole cover.

I take a deep breath and look at Carly who is laughing. "Could you give me a hand? I can't get the heel out of the manhole cover."

She approaches me still laughing. "Okay, on my count, pull your foot out." She puts both hands around my ankle, just above where the strap of this damned shoe is. "One, two, and... three!" We manage to get the heel out, but with a problem. The manhole cover came off too.

We both laugh. "I knew I should have come in flip-flops!" I exclaim.

"Take the shoe off your foot and let's try to unstick the heel," Carly tells me.

I do as she says, and after several attempts, we manage to remove that damn shoe from the manhole cover.

We put the manhole cover back in place and I fasten my shoe again.

Thank goodness there was no one on this street to witness the scene.

I don't even take a step forward before I fall hard to the ground, tripping over I don't even know what.

Instead of helping me, Carly laughs, if possible, even harder than before.

I get back on my feet and raise my arms to the sky. "Will I ever have any joy?" I shout. The thunder in the sky that signals a storm is more than enough of an answer.