CHAPTER 4

　　Peach and Marilyn stood side by side as they came out of Winter's Apparel. The sun spread warmth along their cheeks as the winds tussled their hair across their faces. The black beret Peach wore barely helped her out here. It seemed it was meant as a stylish piece, other than a protective piece.

　　Peach had a frown on her delicate lips as she gazed at the pigeons fending for themselves in the middle of the road. She couldn't believe Marilyn would cause her such an embarrassment. It was completely exasperating.

　　"You've pulled us out of your store. Don't you have anything to say?" Marilyn snapped at her.

　　Peach pulled her attention away from the pigeons to Marilyn. She mirrored her expression. Both women were visibly sulking. Peach wondered what the big deal was about what she'd done. Yes, it hadn't been right, but it was done. There was nothing either of them could do about it.

　　"I do have something to say. I don't like what you did in there. You could have easily called me out so we could talk. What was the need to do all that?" Peach snapped.

　　Marilyn stared at her. Her fingers flipped her hair across her shoulders in one swipe. "How did you turn around to blame me for all these? You're the one who walked out on our date. Aren't you feeling a bit remorseful? I can't believe this!" Marilyn shouted angrily.

　　"We're friends-with-benefits. Why should I feel remorseful that I walked out on a date? You're the one blowing this out of proportion." Peach accused in a laid-back tone.

　　Marilyn blinked twice, not expecting Peach to make such a statement. Peach looked away from her. There was no need to feel guilty. She was right. She looked at the scarf she held, her heart flooding with warmth for no apparent reason.

　　"You know, everyone told me to stay away from you. They told me you were weird, but I didn't listen to them. I wish I did. You're not normal, Peach. You deserve to be ostracised by people. The truth is your claim that no one loves or accepts you, but have you ever done anything to make them feel you're worth hanging around with? No! All you're good at is sulking and feeling sorry for yourself." Marilyn shouted.

　　Peach could step clumsily backward like she had been pushed. Marilyn's words were acute as she turned them around continuously in her head. She caught wind of Marilyn looking at her in anger and something close to hate. Oh, you aren't the only one who is completely annoyed, you bitch!

　　"You're just like the rest. You're a sadist! I shouldn't have had anything to do with you." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't fit in with your expectations of me. But, I'm not sorry for what I'm about to do. It would make me very happy, if you stayed away from me!" She said fiercely.

　　Marilyn laughed humorlessly, stepping close to Peach. She tipped her beret slightly. "You don't get to say the last word. Look at you! You're in your feelings because of what I'd said. You know, I thought I was getting to know you, but I was wrong. No one can know or love a self-conceited person like you." She spat.

　　Peach removed the beret, using her right fingers to push her hair backward. It bounced back, as some of its tresses fell on her forehead. She could barely see as tears blurred her vision. It hurt so much. All these mean words. But, she'd rather die than let those tears fall.

　　"Get away from me!" She shouted weakly.

　　"You don't need to say it twice. It's time I go with people who know what it means to be in a relationship and how it works. Not stuck-up, self-conceited bimbos!" She said, fiercely.

　　Peach watched Marilyn go, feeling her heart constrict in pain. She looked at the sign in front of the store with quivering lips. She couldn't go back there. She needed some time for herself, to sort out her emotions.

　　She walked in the direction of a cafe. How could she date such a mean-spirited girl? What had she done wrong that Marilyn had said all those things to her? She knew that she wasn't the most friendly person in the world, but how could one say all that to their friend? How?

　　She wiped the treacherous tears off her eyes. It was no use crying. No one loved her! Not one single person! Another silver tear leaked from her eyes. She wiped it off again, using the back of her hand. She rounded the corner at the edge of the street, and saw the playful blue and white cafe designs.

　　Carefully, she walked to one of its shades in front of the cafe. She had no energy to enter the cafe today. This was a perfect escape for now. She pulled one of the vacant chairs backward and sank heavily into it. With a shaky breath, she dropped all the things she had in her hands on the table, beside the blue and white menu. She pulled her face in her hands, feeling completely distraught.

　　Why were people so mean? Marilyn had been accused of being mean? That was not her person. She was never consciously mean to people, so where had that come from? What wrong had she done?

　　Her only friend in this place had left her too. How could her father expect her to stay behind now? She had nothing here to live for. She couldn't always lock herself in her room. She needed friends, for no man was an island. Those friends she'd never had. So, what was the use of staying here when she wasn't happy?

　　Her eyes lingered on the scarf. The wool was worn out, but still, the beauty stood out. Her father had put the creative aspect of the industry in her hands. Could she make something out of it, when her personal life was a mess? Peach wasn't sure about her abilities. She wasn't sure about anything, other than the pain in her heart.

　　"Peach?"

　　That voice. She knew that voice. Was that not… She rose her head upwards… Shane? His grey eyes were clear as the waters on the beach and she almost lost herself in its currents. He was dressed smartly in a black suit. This was a contrast to his hooded getup from the other day. Her heart slid to a halt without much assistance from her.

　　She licked her dry lips. "Shane?" She managed in a hoarse voice.

　　He smiled tightly. "That would be me. Can I sit over there?" He asked easily, pointing at the chair opposite hers.

　　She shrugged. "You can. It's vacant, so why not?" She blabbered.

　　"Yes, why not?" He agreed with her.

　　She watched him as his long legs moved swiftly to the chair. When he sat down, she couldn't help but notice how he filled it out. It was almost as if the straw chair was made for him. Her thoughts were now deviating from their somber mood, and she couldn't help but wonder why he affected her that way.

　　"You don't look so good. Are you ok?" He stated.

　　She folded her hands on her lap, not quite sure how to answer that question. She was not ok at all. She bit her lips and somehow she intended to lie. It seemed the most reasonable thing to do in the circumstances.

　　"I'm on the lookout for a job." She blurted out.

　　Oh, my God! What did she just say? That wasn't a lie, but now she had practically shot herself in the foot. Her mouth did not have a filter! Her green eyes met his grey ones hesitantly, and she was acutely aware of the frown that coated his lips.

　　"You're lying." He said as if it were a fact.

　　Well, technically she was, but looking at the broader picture, she was not. If she told him the real truth, he would think she lied fluidly for a living, and she didn't want that. What was that thing people said? First impression matters.

　　Looking away from his piercing gaze, she picked the wool-like it was a lifeline and would offer some sort of inspiration. She inwardly chuckled at her antics, but sobered almost immediately.

　　"That's rude! I'm not." She said firmly.

　　He said nothing. "I have a job. But, I don't like it at all. I'm doing this job as an obligation. It makes me very sad that I can't do what I would like. You see, in every interview, I've been to, they've always rejected me. They'd say things like, ‘Peach, you're too smart for this job, but there is something about you that doesn't sit well with us. I'm sorry, we can't accept you.' It happens every single time!" She blurted out.

　　Peach placed her left palm on her lips. That was too much information. The craziest part was that it was completely accurate. She was supposed to lie like a professional and she didn't do that. She remembered her father telling her she was an awful liar. She was starting to believe it.

　　"Why do you tolerate it?" He asked with such an intensity that caught her breath.

　　Shane was looking at her with such an intensity that rattled her. He seemed to have a magic power that made her pour out her fears. And now, she wanted to say the truth. He didn't know her, and she can always sieve through her words. She looked at him with equal intensity, her fingers squeezing the wool. And, that is what she would do.