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

I have never been a patient person.

If someone who knows me tells you otherwise, they either lie or do not know who I am. I'm not patient with anyone, not even my own mother.

For instance, whenever I point at the obvious that my mom 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 before pushing me out of her.

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 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 1960s 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 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 to 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 worst thing he has ever done would be to skip some of his classes. 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!"

Reed Langston -aka JerkAss, aka the "bad boy" of my high school- has literally frozen. He stopped in his tracks, he stopped giving free fried chicken, and I bet that he stopped breathing. He would probably be shaking out of embarrassment if he was not wearing that big fluffy yellow suit.

How satisfying.

I peered beside him and saw a small boy with curly hair where a few of his teeth were missing. I was about to point out that he was adorable when he suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs. "I said I want my free chicken!" I cringed at his shrieky voice. Nope, not so adorable anymore. "Give it to me already!"

Frankly speaking, I would have chucked the kid out of the mall if he had screamed at me that way. Job or not, I don't care. Spoiled kids and entitled people have a special place in my "what makes me trigger" list. Luckily, I do not work here. Luckily, it's Langston who does. The scene in front of me made me chuckle evilly. Deserve.

Langston smiles at the kid. Typically, even I, who hated his whole being, would claim that his smile was worth a million dollars. Still, with how wide his smile is matched with eyes that are wide like saucers, his smile was off. I'm sure he's aiming for sarcasm, but his smile was really sinister. "You want your chicken? Here!" He shoved the chicken inside the kid's mouth, which caused the little boy to cough. Or choke? He looked satisfied while saying, "Enjoy your damn chicken."

Langston!

Saying that the annoying yet pitiful boy was shocked would be an understatement. Nope, he was appalled. There were fallen chicken crumbs on his shirt, and tears started running down his chubby cheeks. He sobbed for half a minute before running inside the fast-food restaurant. Although I felt terrible for him, I also wanted to laugh because he was munching the chicken while running.

Ordinary people, well, anyone in Langston's shoes right now, would probably feel guilty and apologize for what he has done. But Langston being Langston, simply smirked evilly.

That kid is really pitiful. Pitiful, I tell 'ya.

"REED!" A loud and rustic voice boomed out of nowhere. It was so loud that bystanders looked where we were; we even caught the attention of those walking since some stopped. They probably thought that it was a cop or something. That would have been fun. However, they continued walking again when they noticed it just came from an angry and wrinkly old man. Acting as if nothing happened in the first place and went on with their lives.

The smirk on JerkAss' face dropped when he saw the old man, and a frown replaced it. He then sneered, "What do you want, Patrick?"

"It's Mr. Sanders to you, young man." The old man, which I believe is named 'Patrick,' glared at Langston. From the name tag pinned on his right chest, it seems as if he is also the general manager of the place. He fumes, "If your father hears about this, you will-"

Jerkass cuts him off with both eyebrows raised, "I will what?" Oh, cool, he is threatening him back. Like an Uno reverse card. Fascinating. "I will lose this job?" He scoffs arrogantly. "Don't go there, Patrick." He spat the name with venom. "Maybe you're the one who is going to be losing something if you dare open your big mouth. Like I don't know," He sarcastically rolled his eyes before smirking, "Your job?"

What an absolute butthead.

If Patrick was a cartoon or an anime character, he would have gray smoke coming from his ears. -Or was it steam? Nah, if Patrick was indeed fictional, then it would definitely be smoke.

With a look of defeat, Patrick simply threw him a frown and said, "... just do the job properly."

I silently watched Patrick walk grumpily back to the restaurant. Stomping his feet along the way. I looked back at JerkAss and saw him smirking as he watched Patrick slam the glass doors shut, but he failed because of the wind and all.

In the memory of dear old Patrick and that annoying little kid, let me do the honors of wiping that smirk off his lovely face.

"Poor man." I tsked and continued to mock him, "You're such a bad boy to play jokes with your boss, eh Langston?"

JerkAss suddenly went stiff, freezing for a millisecond, before shifting on his feet to fully face me. "You saw nothing." He gave me his famous glare, the one he always uses when he wants to scare someone or something off.

Pfft. Like that's going to work.

"But I did." I batted my eyelashes to mock him, acting like an innocent kid. "I have eyes, Langston. This obviously means that I saw the famous "bad boy" of Denovan High giving away free chickens." I smirked while rubbing salt into his wounded pride, "Which also meant that I could 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 would fall off. The horrified look on his face added a bonus point too. He looked so intimidated, so vulnerable, so... helpless.

I chuckled in a sinister way. "What happened, Langston? Did daddy dearest force you to work for this job?"

As if his horrified look had never happened, he regained his composure and frowned at me. "Again, you saw nothing." He growls angrily, "Or else-"

I cut him off with an evil laugh as I raise my own Uno reverse card, "Or else what, JerkAss?"

He smirked, "I will ruin you."

"Ruin me?" My eyes widened in pure mockery. I pouted and had successfully annoyed the heck out of him when I saw his jaw clenched angrily. "For your information, you are the one with no cards to play here at the moment. So, really, you can't." I immediately dropped all facades and gave him a mean look. "And besides, I will be ruining you first. Play nice, Langston."

His eyes widened. Although I am a few feet shorter than him, I can still see both fear and amusement glinting in his eyes.

"Fair enough, ey?" I winked at him with a smirk of my own before leaving him alone.

Oh, what would other people say if they learned that the infamous wealthy, handsome (ew), and 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 was 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 in 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 into 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.

He is panting already? Wow, someone's skipping cardio. "Gee Langston, we haven't even run half a mile and you are 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 of 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 say please?"

He groaned loudly, "Porter!"

I smirked.