Free Crazygirl Falls in Love by Alexandra Wnuk Page B

ear to ear. He Who Shall Not Be Named used to comment on
them all the time. He used to call me Dumpling.
    “Hey Pen, what’s going on?”
    Chloe comes to stand beside me. I hadn’t noticed her come in,
hadn’t really noticed anything for the last few minutes, so
absorbed I’ve been in my own reflection. Narcissus reborn.
Semi-disgusted with myself I hide my one-on-one insecurity session
from Chloe by turning the focus onto her,
    “Nothing, saw you and Antonio cooing to each other, how’s that
panning out?”
    I bump my shoulder with hers as she takes out her lipstick. I
should probably reapply too.
    “He’s alright,” Chloe replies without much
enthusiasm.
    Crap. It’s ‘the Tone’ again. She has used it
to describe every single guy who has shown an interest in her since
Crazy. She ignores my silent stare and starts applying her blood
red lippy. She is the only person I know who actually looks good in
red lipstick. I gingerly take out my generic pink gloss, thinking
as I do that I wish I looked more like my strikingly beautiful
friend. One night Chloe stepped out wearing yellow eye shadow and still managed
to look like the face of Chanel. She and Antonio would look so good
together, but I can tell by ‘the Tone’ that she’s about to blow him
off.
    Before I start dabbing the sticky stuff onto my lips I turn to
face her and put on my most stern of voices,
    “Chlo, he is tall, gorgeous, nice, funny, into you and not
addicted to booze or crystal meth. Promise me that when he asks you
for dinner you’ll accept.”
    “He won’t ask,” She replies confidently.
    “He will. And you have to promise you’ll say yes.”
    “No.”
    “Oh come on, it’ll be fun.”
    “It won’t.”
    “Do it for me.”
    “Why?”
    I consider explaining that the number of
nights she’s spent at home alone watching Friends reruns is a cause for
psychological concern. No one likes Friends that much.
    “Because no one likes Friends that much.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Forget it. Do it for the potentially gorgeous children you
might be depriving the world of.”
    “I hate kids.”
    “Yeah. Me too.”
    But just as I think I’m out of ideas…
    “I got it! Do it to peek into his dark and disturbed soul.
Surely a guy that hot has some serious issues or flaws.”
    “Oh geeeeeeeez,” she throws her lipstick into her clutch,
“alright.”
    “Woohoo!”
    I grab her in a side hug and start singing, “You’re going on a
da-ate! You’re going on a da-ate!” and jump up and down, trying to
lift her with me.
    “I’m not going on a date,” she laughs, trying to untangle
herself, “he hasn’t even asked yet!”
    We make our way back to the dance floor. Antonio is waiting
for Chloe but the Stranger is nowhere to be seen. I eventually find
him in a dark corner drinking vodka with more of the Beautiful
People. My step slows as I approach. I can’t help but be
intimidated by the Spaniards. All of them could be models straight
out of a Ralph Lauren window display.
    “Hi,” I greet him.
    “Mi amor!” He seems thrilled to see me. I wish he didn’t, now
it’s going to be thrice as hard to accomplish Mission
Get-Him-To-Start-Thinking-Of-Me-As-Girlfriend-Material.
    Courage, Penny .
    “I think I’m going to head off, I’m about to faint from
hunger.”
    “You no wait, and come home with me?” He leans in so the
others can’t hear.
    “No, I don’t think so. You see, when I get
really hungry I get angry, and when I get really angry I get
hangry. And you do not want to see me hangry.”
    The joke is lost on him and his smile disappears. He doesn’t
say anything for a long moment. Then he leans down to kiss me on
the cheek (not a lingering kiss, but a short peck) and says
something really odd that I ponder for the rest of the
night,
    “I respect you, Penelope.”
    ***
    Welp, it’s been a long, lazy Sunday. I went for a run when I
got up, came back and messaged Mags to see if she still wanted to
come over for Epic Fry Up Bad