and i've never felt more alone,
feels so scary getting o l d . . .

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The perk of having my best friend work at a cosmetics store is that I can pop in whenever I want and have her do my makeup. On a lazy Monday, just over a week until school came back into my life, that's just what I did.

In my car that still has no working air conditioning, I drove myself to the mall to pay Cheyenne a visit. There wasn't anything on my agenda that I had to do for the day, so bothering her seemed like a good idea. Although most times when I stop in, I'm saving her from a customer straight from hell. She'll usually send them off to be helped by someone else and spend hours with me, showing me all around the store like I've never been in before.

Though she'd like to, she doesn't go to college, and she doesn't see it happening. Not for awhile, at least. It's not in her family's budget and with the way her dad and his girlfriend are, they don't believe in the whole "higher education" thing. They insist that it's a scam, that you can get through life just fine without college because they both have. 

So in the meantime, Cheyenne took something that she was passionate about and turned it into a job. She started working at MAC Cosmetics going into our last year of high school as a part-time gig. Once we graduated, they upgraded her to full-time and offered her the chance to work at becoming a certified makeup artist.

I spotted her right away when I walked through the store opening. Towards the back in her all-black attire, with an apron of makeup brushes circling her narrow hips as she painted mascara on a woman's eyelashes. Her head, blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail with her dark roots showing in the slightest down her middle part, jerked up when she recognized me.

"Five minutes," she mouthed to me, holding up her hand to gesture the five. I nodded with a smile and drifted around for a bit to scan over some products while she finished up her client.

Although she hasn't had the best upbringing, Cheyenne has certainly made a better life for herself on her own. She's the most independent person I know, and she doesn't rely on other people for anything. Not for support, not for love, not for even a pat on the back. I admire her for her strength, because that's something I lack in significantly, even if I am working at it day after day.

Her unconventional, nonconformist guardians are more of a pain in the ass to her than anything, but she knows it's better than being with her mother. The woman lost custody of Cheyenne when she was eight, the reason being both physical and emotional child abuse. It was just a few years after a shaky divorce, so that only added to the illness that was boiling inside her mother for too long. Drinking heavily and using drug after drug didn't help either. She put Cheyenne through hell and frankly, I'm still stunned at how my best friend put up with it all, and how she manages to be the amazing person that she is today.

Now, living in Tatum Hills like the rest of us, with her "hippie of a dad and his dumb-ass girlfriend" – Cheyenne's words not mine – is where she's been since her mom was forced to leave the state. She hates it more than anything because of how different her and her dad are, seeing as that Mr. Marshall adopted a new outlook after the divorce. He claimed he needed more "zen" in his life, and he wanted to get back into his Burmese roots, so he dove headfirst into the lifestyle he had as a child. Cheyenne didn't like one bit of it when she moved back in with him and his girlfriend once her mom was gone.

They have a pretty strict Myanmar diet, and Cheyenne eats whatever the hell she wants. They like to burn candles, save electricity and water, and meditate, while Cheyenne couldn't care less about it all. They only buy the absolute necessities of life, she's an impulse buyer and treats herself with her hard-earned money. There's hundreds of other reasons why they don't get along, but that's just the tip of the iceberg.

This is why Cheyenne ends up at my house most days out of the week, but it doesn't bother me at all me. Having her around honestly makes me feel better and more alive. Sometimes it almost seems like she's the human version of my medication.

A familiar hand I've come to know as hers clasped around my bare arm, taking me out of my debate between two different blush colors. "She was a terror," Cheyenne lowly growled so no one else would hear her. I let her guide me around the displays articulately placed throughout the store, her hand still holding me. "Everything I did, she wasn't happy with, even though I was doing exactly what she asked. Have you seen our new lipsticks?"

"No, I haven't," I answered her question with the same false enthusiasm she asked it with. Our forced smiles put on a show for those around us, so she wouldn't get in trouble for fucking around with her best friend on the job.

"I think this color would look amazing on your skin tone," she promised, thoroughly nodding her head as she picked up a tube of rosy matte lipstick and swatched it on the back of her hand for me. "Can we please do something tonight? I'm stuck here 'till eight and I think I might strangle myself if I have to go home to hear my dad and Sage tell me one more time how I need to 'relax' and 'join them in a yoga sesh'."

"Wait, I actually really like this color," I said as I took the tube from her and looked closely at it.

"Savannah," she grunted my name impatiently.

"Alright." I rolled my eyes, checking the price of the lipstick and grabbing a box for myself. If it weren't for the friendly discount Cheyenne gives me, I probably wouldn't buy half of the things that I do from her store. "We can do something, obviously. Do you think I'd say no to you?"

She mimicked my eye roll, a smirk tugging at her lips also. "Well, I didn't know if you had plans or something, like with Tommy and them. I don't know."

"Would you want me to plan something with Tommy and them?" I questioned, one eyebrow raising.

"N-no, no. Well, I mean- it doesn't matter to me. Whatever," she stumbled through her response. Her head shook vigorously as she grabbed another lipstick and heavily swatched it on her hand, observing it in the light for herself.

I eyed her suspiciously, wondering what was going on inside that mind of hers. Every now and then, I'll try to catch her off-guard to see if she'll admit something about Tommy that I'm pretty positive I already know is true, but the girl is always on her game. She's exceptionally reticent when it comes to him, and it's frustrating as hell. If it were anybody else, I know she'd spill every little thought she had about them. 

Tommy's crush on her came out of nowhere. When Cheyenne sprouted a few inches from her always mid-five-foot height to a towering 5'9" that only emphasized her naturally slim figure, bleached her hair, and started caring less and less about what people thought of her, I guess he realized just how remarkable of a human being she is. He made his feelings pretty clear to me, and to anyone that has eyes. Everyone except for the girl herself that he's madly in love with.

Like I said, I'm always digging around for some kind of lead, mostly because she does the same to me if I even look at someone for too long. Apparently, she takes that as "I'm in love with them". But for her, she doesn't give away any signs that she likes Tommy. Sometimes I swear I can feel the sexual tension between them, but I'm not the best when it comes to romance so maybe it's just my imagination. Could also be my inner matchmaker hoping for my two best friends to fall in love.

"Hm," I hummed, still studying her behavior. Nothing. "I can see what they're up to. If not, us two can always hang out."

"Duh," she grinned back and linked her arm with mine. "Come on. I'll do your face since no one's in here." And with that, she dragged me to her stool at the back of the store.

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As I was curled on my couch at quarter to nine, a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream in my lap, with my sister to the right of me and my dad and Aunt Farrah on the couch diagonal to us, my phone buzzed. Cheyenne's name popped up on the screen, notifying me that she wanted to FaceTime. I shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth before I swiped my thumb across the screen to answer the call.

"Hi," I chirped when her face came into view, except she looked about as flustered as someone could be.

"I got a fucking parking ticket." Was her greeting of choice. I inhaled sharply at her swearing, turning my phone so she could see my sister sitting beside me. "Whoops. Hi Hales."

"Hey," Haleigh chuckled, shaking her head. My dad was laughing along too, knowing well that Cheyenne had everything under control in her life – minus her crude behavior.

I brought the phone back to me and jokingly rolled my eyes. "How did that happen?"

"Well, I had to stop at the store on my way home from work to get some lady products..." She paused, her focus somewhere in front of her. I could tell she was driving and talking to me at the same time, but I didn't say anything because my dad would probably suck her into a lecture when she got to my house. "And there were no spots in the small ass- I mean, stupid parking lot, so I parked on a side street that was only for fifteen minute parking. Apparently, I took longer than fifteen minutes and I came outside to see a ticket on my windshield."

"How long did you take?" I asked, as I downed the last bit of my ice cream.

"Oh my God," she gasped when she glanced down at the screen. "I'm raiding all your ice cream when I come over. Anyway, I swear I took twenty minutes, at the most. This cop probably didn't have anything better to do but make my shitty- God, I mean, crappy day even worse."

"That sucks."

Haleigh was giggling with me at how Cheyenne's uncontrollable sailor mouth kept betraying her, but it's not like she hasn't heard it before. I just try to set the best example for her that I can, though sometimes a word slips out here and there. We're not perfect, but we try.

"Tell me about it. I don't need this right now," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, a red glow covering her from the light she was stopped at. Her head suddenly shook as if that would erase the last half hour, dark eyes opening to look at me again. "Anyway, I'll be at your house in seven minutes. I'm probably gonna end up sleeping there too."

"Alright, I'll see you soon," I smiled, and she returned the gesture before the light on her face switched to green. We hung up after I told her to drive safe, a breath falling from my lips as I sunk back into the couch.

It wasn't even seven minutes later when a commercial came on the TV and a text from Cheyenne appeared on my phone, alerting me that she was here. I had no idea where she got "seven minutes" from, seeing at the nearest drug store is definitely closer to my house than that, but I didn't question her. The girl has a mind of her own that no one can change.

I hopped up from the couch, my bare feet hitting the carpet in the process. Empty bowl in hand, I walked to the front door and opened it up to see her walking up to my house, still dressed in work attire. The only thing missing was her apron of brushes.

"Hey." She nodded at me, hiking up the tote bag that was slipping down her bony shoulder. To help her out, I took it from her and almost dropped it to the floor when I realized how heavy it was.

"Shit. What did you bring?" I mumbled as I struggled to keep it up.

Cheyenne shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Clothes, makeup, you know." She flicked her hand dismissively. "I need ice cream pronto, so don't mind me as I raid your freezer."

"Go right ahead," I told her, my free arm gesturing to the kitchen. While she went to drown herself in dessert, I brought her bag upstairs to my room and left it by my bed.

I skipped back down to the living room, noticing Cheyenne sitting where I was previously. She was happily eating her ice cream, laughing with my sister at something on the TV like they were siblings. The two have always gotten along ever since the unrestrained blonde came into my life when we were just a couple of munchkins. Cheyenne has always been family, and there's nothing that could ever change that.

"So, Chey? How're your dad and Sage doing?" Aunt Farrah asked her as I squeezed onto the couch next to my sister. The joking tinge to my aunt's voice meant that she knew the question would piss off Cheyenne. She always does it anyway, being both a typical adult as well as an instigating teenager at heart.

Cheyenne groaned loudly, tossing her head back in agony. "Farrah, if you know the answer, why do you continue to ask me all the time?"

"Because I know how much it annoys you," my immature aunt retorted with a smirk.

"They're fine. They're always fine," Cheyenne muttered. "Too chill for my liking, but that'll never change."

"Will they still be fine after they find out you got a parking ticket?"

The rate at how fast Cheyenne's head jolted up to send Aunt Farrah a deathly glare was something otherworldly. The older, somewhat more mature blonde didn't seem to be bothered by the look. "Yes. Because they aren't going to find out. I'm paying it off myself and there's no reason for them to know about it," Cheyenne ended up spitting out, as if to prove she was a responsible adult. We all knew she was about as grown as someone in their twenties could be, but by no means did that mean she had it all figured out.

"Enough with the lecturing. Can we please watch the show?" I cut in, my eyebrows raised expectantly. The two blondes nodded their heads at me, and it finally got peacefully quiet between all of us.

Our night ended with everyone passing out on the couch, my dad being the first to wake us up and tell us to go upstairs. And after I guided a very sleepy Haleigh to her room, I went to my own to see Cheyenne already curled up on the side of my bed she's claimed over time. It didn't take me long to join her in a deep, somewhat steady slumber.

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A/N - a filler chapter, my least favorite kind of chapter there is but like i always say, we need them. nothing too exciting in this other than you get more insight on who cheyenne is. she hasn't had it easy either, and i guess the theme in this story is everyone's got their own shit going on in their lives and it's not always perfect or pretty but they're trying!

other than that, happy new year!!!! i cannot believe it's gonna be 2018. this year was weird. anyone else feel that way? like good stuff happened but shitty stuff happened too? it wasn't the greatest but it wasn't the worst. i think that goes for every year though. anywho, i leave for california on friday for a week and i'm totally unprepared for it but i can't fucking WAIT it's gonna be AMAZING!

have a happy, healthy, safe, rad new year, y'all!!!! love you lots n lots.

song: ribs by lorde (love this damn song)

image: a BeAuTiFuL cover my good friend blamegames made for me :') love u thank u

xoxo, sabbbycat