(1) Yellow Fluffy Suit... I love it!

I have never been a patient person.

If someone who knows me tells you otherwise, then they truly don't know me. Why? Because I was never known to be patient -not even to my own mother.

For instance, whenever I point at the obvious that she was late in our Mother-Daughter Bonding Session (she likes to call it that way), she would start babbling about how she waited nine months for me to be fully developed.

Cue for an eye roll.

I stood silently waiting near the tiny arcade room in Walmart with my dead phone on hand for two extremely boring hours. I was originally waiting outside for my lovely mother to finish her weekly shopping spree, but we all know the horrific things that can happen outside Walmart. Along with that abominable scent that's coming from somewhere even I don't know where.

In all honesty, it would not have been as boring if my phone didn't give up on me because of the long hours of playing Piano Tiles... but then again, there's the possibility that it's simply because it's an iOS. Plus, to put sugary sprinkles on top of my extremely comfortable situation, my stomach has been grumbling nonstop since my mother left, and is also literally piercing through my other organs.

All fed up, my stomach revolted against my brain and won as it decided for me to crawl out of my comfort zone of silence and start looking for my mother... or at least to buy food.

I started my search for a woman with short blonde hair, white loose long sleeves, and white baggy pants. No, I'm not looking for a person from the 1960's Berkeley who accidentally and unfortunately bleached up all her clothes -nope, just my mother.

I have no idea what has gotten into her today to wear the white baggy outfit, but it is the reason why I agreed to let her do some shopping. I would wait somewhere in Walmart while she does her own thing inside just to make sure that she is doing some shopping. I even suggested going to a bigger Walmart that is located three towns away from where we live in just to make sure that she would have a lot of options.

I remembered her asking me if her shoes matched her pants and I answered her with my usual answer every time she asks me that same question, "I'm sorry and everything, but obviously, I'm not that kind of girl." And she knows that.

Just as I've said, it is obvious that I don't like fashion that much. I stand with the unpopular opinion of clothes being "just clothes". Especially for the fact that I don't know how to nicely say "you look like a clown" without hurting anyone's feelings.

I remembered my little cousin, who lives in Ohio, asking me if she looks cute in her fairy princess costume. It is made up of neon pink fabric, bright blue lace, and assorted colors of beads from red to violet that is wrapped around her waist. So really, she looks like vomit disguised as a rainbow that came out from a unicorn. I know that describing someone as unicorn barf is an insult even if it's colorful, which is why I chose the safe answer and said, "You look like a unicorn...?"

And it was at that moment I knew that I fudged (say no to bad words) up.

She cried, she bawled, and she sobbed. She gave me a throne I will forever be wearing as she named me the worst cousin in the world. I honestly thought that calling her a unicorn would be a compliment.

I never planned to offend her. She told me that she loves unicorns after all. Who would have thought that calling a child an imaginary colorful animal is an insult.

I walked towards the pastry section and sighed out "ooh's" and "ahh's" when I saw various types of bread that were not offered in Denovan, aka the town I lived in. When I haven't seen my mom anywhere, I decided to just go back from where I was originally waiting. I walked towards the cashier and started waiting in line to pay for the croissants I grabbed.

I was shocked to see familiar faces. Nicky, a classmate of mine in my Philosophy class, seems like she is waiting in the line with other people whose faces are unknown to me. Deanne, my old neighbor, seems like she is paying for the black lipstick, eyeliner, and eye shadow she is buying. It's nice to see emo people who still appreciate gothic music. JerkAss, my mortal enemy, seems like he is selling chickens while wearing a yellow suit. Jovy, my Trigonometry groupmate, seems like he is dancing like a psychopath -Hold on, JerkAss that bastard looked what now!?

I stared at the yellow figure right outside a small chicken fast food restaurant and gasped loudly when I concluded that it really was -indeed-JerkAss. He has his signature bored look as he tries to sell chicken while wearing the chicken suit.

The infamous bad boy is wearing what now!?

Reed Langston -aka JerkAss- is the epitome of evil. I usually avoid "bad words", or inappropriate words. However, I call him JerkAss because he is one. He is also the infamous bad boy of my high school. This is hilarious because I believe that calling him the Bad Boy is overrated.

After all, as far as I know, the "baddest" thing he has ever done would be skipping some of his class. Although apparently, according to the rumors, he is in a gang and does illegal... stuff.

"Langston?" I gasped out, finally coming out of my shock. I quickly paid for what I just bought and hurriedly walked towards him while laughing hysterically. I know, I look like a crazy person... but between him and me, at least I look like a person. "Langston!" I once again screamed as I laughed evilly and stand in front of him while crossing my arms.

JerkAss literally froze because he stopped giving free fried chickens. If he wasn't wearing that big fluffy yellow suit, he's probably shaking out of embarrassment. Hey, I would too if I were in his situation. Thankfully though, I'm not.

"I said I want my free chicken!" Langston moved a little which revealed a whiny little kid screaming behind him. "Give it to me already!" Langston growls but did nothing to face the kid.

I chuckled at the scene in front of me which caused JerkAss to smile sarcastically at me.

"GIVE ME MY FREE CHICKEN!" The little boy shouts at him while pulling his chicken wings -Langston's chicken costume wings, just to be clear.

Langston grumpily pulls his arm away and suddenly turned around to face the kid and said, "You want your chicken? Here-" He then shoves the chicken in the kid's mouth, causing for the little boy to cough... or gasp... or choke? "-swallow your damn chicken!"

JerkAss!

I moved aside just in time to see the pitiful but annoying young boy have chicken crumbs fall down his shirt. Just like water breaking out from a dam, tears that were brimming in his eyes started running down his chubby cheeks. He wails loudly like the alarm from an ambulance and ran back inside the fast-food restaurant while calling out his mother. Oh, you know, the typical toddler tantrum.

Still though, no matter how annoying that kid was, I still wanted to apologize on behalf of JerkAss for his rude behavior because I actually really did pity the kid.

Langston however, being a total JerkAss, simply smirked evilly.

That kid was pitiful I tell 'ya.

"REED!" A loud and rustic angry voice boomed out of nowhere. It was so loud; it seems as if it can cause an earthquake. Jokes aside though, it was so loud that there were bystanders who took a second of their time to glance at us. They probably thought that it was the FBI or something. When they saw that it only came from an angry, stout, and wrinkly old man, they continued walking again.

The smirk on JerkAss's face immediately dropped and a frown replaced it. He scowls and says, " What, Patrick?"

"It's Mr. Sanders to you, young man." The old man, which I believe is the manager of the fast-food restaurant whose name is Patrick, glared at him. "If your father hears about this, you will-"

"I will what?" JerkAss cuts him off with a raised eyebrow, "Lose my inheritance?" He then scoffs and glares at the poor man, "Don't go there, Patrick." He spat the name with such venom that it can most likely paralyze a bear. "Maybe you're the one who'll lose something. I'm not quite sure but maybe," He sarcastically rolled his eyes while smirking, "your job?"

If Patrick was a cartoon character and this was Cartoon Network, he would be having gray smokes coming out from his ears -or would it be steam?

Either way, he will look weird.

Patrick's eyes widened, obviously enraged, but instead of doing anything reckless, he simply scowls back and firmly said, "Then do the job properly."

It's funny because it seems like he is still trying to show JerkAss that he is the one with authority here. But really though, just like in politics, the one with money is the one who truly has the power -unfortunately.

I watched silently as Patrick walked back to the restaurant grumpily while he angry stomps his feet like a child along the way. I looked back at JerkAss and clenched my fists when I see him smirking as he watches Patrick walk away. I can't believe this.

In memory of the burnt soul of dear old Patrick and that little kid because of the roast JerkAss had lit up, let me do the honors on putting that smirk off his lovely face.

"Poor man." I broke the silence, "You're such a bad, bad boy to play jokes with your boss, eh Langston?"

JerkAss suddenly went stiff, freezing for a second, before turning around to face me. "You saw nothing." He gave me his infamous glare; the one he always uses when he wants to scare someone off.

Pfft. Like that's going to work.

Well, it normally would. He may look like a Greek god, but that glare can scare Hades away. But given the situation that he is wearing like the Greek god of chickens, that glare gave him no justice.

So again, pfft.

"But I did." I batted my eyelashes to mock him. Acting like I'm an 'innocent' kid. "I have eyes, Langston. Eyes."

He glares harder, "I can see that-"

I cut him off, "WHICH MEANS... which obviously means... that I..." I chuckled, "I saw the famous bad boy of Denovan High giving away free chickens." I crossed my arms in front of me as I felt a smirk creeping on my face, "Which obviously means that I can see you wearing a chicken suit."

The look on his face was priceless, trust me. His eyes were so wide that I bet his eyeballs could fall off. The horrified look on his face added a bonus point too. He looks so intimidated, so terrified, so... helpless.

I chuckled in a sinister way. "What happened Langston? Did daddy dearest stopped giving you money?"

As if his horrified look never happened, he regained back a little bit of his composure and frowned at me. "Again, you saw nothing." He snapped angrily, "You better keep your mouth shut, Porter. Or else-"

I cut him off with a laugh, "Or else what, JerkAss?"

He smirked, "I'll ruin your reputation."

"My reputation?" My eyes widened in pure mockery. I faked a pout and had successfully annoyed the heck out of him. "For your information, you're the vulnerable one at the moment. So," I immediately gave him my 'I-dare-you' look. "If you'll ruin my name, I'll ruin yours."

His eyes widened. It's weird because I can actually see both fear and amusement dancing in his eyes. It is weird because as far as I can remember, the last time I saw fear in his eyes was when his mom caught him putting gum on my hair back in the 7th grade.

"Fair enough ey?" I gave him a wink and a replica of his smirk to let him taste his own medicine before turning around to leave. I'm just going to wait near my mom's car because I honestly can't wait to start writing about this once I charged my phone.

Oh, what would other people say once they learned that the infamous rich, handsome (whatever), and the disreputable bad boy is wearing a chicken suit?

Damn, my blog would be a hit!

I write a blog under the pseudonym of CrazyHater. Just like what my username suggests, it's a hate blog. But I like to call it an 'awareness' blog though.

I was a few feet away from him when he called out my last name, "Porter!"

I continued walking as my smirk deepens. Just keep walking Chlo, keep walking. Eventually, he'll stop.

"Porter!!"

He will stop.

"Porter!!!"

Great. He won't stop. Worst, I can hear his voice getting nearer.

I clenched my fists tighter as I tried walking faster because I bet he's doing his best to catch up to me. Gosh, I just want to get out. Why does this town's Walmart have to be huge?

"PORTER!"

I give up. If I wouldn't entertain this piece of macaroni, then my mother will know where I am -and hundreds of strangers, too. I stopped walking and let out a loud groan.

As expected, there were numerous people looking at us. I mean, I can't blame them. After all, there is a huge fluffy chicken -JerkAss- chasing an innocent little girl -Me. Plus, this gigantic mammal has feathers trailing behind him like the bread trailing Hansel and Gretel's path.

"What, " I turned around to see him near me, "Chicken?" Ha! Chicken is so going to be on my Jerkass nickname list.

"Don't call me that..." JerkAss glares at me, puh-lease, that look can't hurt a fly! Okay, fine. It can -but the fluffy chicken suit softened it.

I was about to retort a sarcastic comment when the little kid from earlier ran out with a woman on tow. He points at JerkAss using his tiny index finger, "Mama! That's the big mean chicken that stuffed my mouth with food!"

Do note that his eyes are red and his mom is quite... huge. I'm not talking about 'I-eat-a-lot' huge, nope, but an 'I'm-eating-all-my-sorrows' type of huge.

As if on cue, Patrick comes running out of the restaurant with panic written all over his face while mouthing 'run' towards us.

I gulped and felt a drop of sweat falling down my temple. I looked back at Jerkass when he simply snorted. He then puffs out his chest, his feathery chest, while arrogantly saying, "If I can handle a three-hundred-pound man, I can easily handle this... woman."

The said woman grabbed the huge bag that was hiding behind her, or probably was just there but was hidden because as I've said, she was huge. She has to be bigger than life. Literally.

Alas, Jerkass's face flinched as his strong demeanor was long lost now. "I can handle a woman without a bag full of bricks though," He grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him, "Run!"

Just like what he said, we ran. Forget the fluffy suit, forget the fact that I skipped Physical Education in my sophomore year because we are running.

I can already see the exit when the realization hit me like that woman's bag: Why the freaking lollipop was I running?!

I tried stopping, but as I was slowing down, his grip tightens and he runs faster.

Ugh.

I dug my shoes stronger on the ground while I tried to pull my wrist away from JerkAss's strong grip, "HELP! THERE'S A MONSTER KIDNAPPING ME-" I stopped shouting when I saw the woman running towards us, waving her bag like a cowboy in Texas as she did a rodeo. I immediately locked hands with JerkAss and screamed, "JUST KIDDING!"

I let him pull me off my feet as he was leading the way. We ran outside Walmart and went straight to the parking lot. Thankfully, just like how Walmart was gigantic, the parking lot was also far away from the actual mall. I bet the woman wouldn't try to catch us now.

We both slowed down as we were near my lifesaver, my mother's old Toyota car.

"Let go of me." I gave the person in front of me a nasty glare -Oops, scratch that, I gave a nasty glare at the chicken in front of me.

He furiously asked, "Let go of you? You should THANK me for saving YOUR life!"

This time, I scoffed loudly. How dare he? I dabbed my finger on his fluffy chest and angrily said, "If you did not shove the food inside that kid's mouth, then that old woman would absolutely, positively, affirmatively wouldn't have chased us!"

"If you were not there, then I wouldn't have done what I did!"

I gawked at this JerkAss, "So you're blaming me!?"

"YES, I AM!"

"You JerkAss! I was not the one who shoved the chicken inside a little kid's mouth!"

"I-" He immediately stopped though. I turned around to look at the reason that caused him to stop.

Oh. My. God.

A GIGANTIC SWEATY OLD WOMAN IS RUNNING TOWARDS US!

"RUN!!!" We both shouted at the same time, so... yeah, we ran. Again.

We ran with my hair flying around like a crazy goon and his feathers flying everywhere thanks to the lovely California wind.

"There!" He panted, pointing at a corner.

Panted? Wow, is he fat or what? "Gee Langston, we haven't even run half a mile and you're already panting heavier than that old lady."

He glares at me, "If you're inside a heavy suit, you'll know."

I smirked, "But I am not wearing a heavy suit, you are."

He groans, obviously tired with our banters. "Can you act like a normal person?"

"Never."

He sighs loudly, "Then can we please act like we don't hate each other?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Did Reed Langston just said please?"

He groaned loudly, "Porter!"

I smirked.