Mikey And Eggie
[Het] [Tan Poh Yolk, Michael Owen] [PG]
Mikey And Eggie
I walked towards her, feeling my heartbeat accelerate, all for the wrong reasons. I hadn’t seen anyone as, um, beautiful as her, in a long time. Most people would think I was weird, because she wasn’t what they’d call ‘gorgeous’. But I knew better. I knew, that underneath that strange, hideous face, there was a kind, attractive, WONDERFUL soul. Or so I hoped.
I turned back to my sniggering so-called friends, wanting to turn back time. I wanted them to take their dare back. I wanted to shut my big mouth and keep it that way. Dammit, I cursed silently. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why did I have to open this stupid gap of mine?
But their soft laughter only egged me on. I was determined to stick it through. I had started the dare, and I was going to end it. “Shit,” I couldn’t help cursing as I turned back to face her. She was walking rapidly towards the exit, probably too ashamed to show her ugly face to the world any longer. I sucked in a deep breath and ran towards her, deliberately keeping my pace slower than usual, hoping that I would miss her. No such luck.
“Uh…” I stammered as I accidentally-on-purpose collided into her, wincing when she dropped her stuff. I bent down to help her pick them up, but her forehead crashed into mine and for a minute there, I saw stars. “Here, let me help you,” I offered, when my vision finally cleared.
She was rubbing her forehead, where a huge lump had risen. What a dork. She nodded numbly, pointing at the floor and continuing to rub the bump. I could hear my mates giggling as I leaned down to pick the stuff up. My cheeks flushed pink as I realized what she had bought.
An extravagant array of bras, underwear and pads littered the floor. I picked them up slowly, one by one, wincing when my fingers came into contact with those - ugh! - pads. I looked at her and saw that she was SMIRKING at me. “For heaven’s sake,” I muttered under my breath. “Get some modesty.”
I picked up the rest of her ‘stuff’, all the time refusing to acknowledge her disgusting, bitchy smile. Damn her! I cursed silently. How DARE she laugh at ME? Doesn’t she know who I am? I’m Michael Owen, for God’s sake, star player of Liverpool!
I glanced up at her and thrust the stuff into her outstretched arms. It was all I could do not to slap that whore. “Dammit woman!” I yelled at her. “Can you go get some manners? Sheesh!”
She just stared blankly at me, tapping her foot on the cold floor tiles in that infuriating way women do. “Who’s yelling at who, young man?”
“YOUNG MAN!?” I screeched, ignoring the funny looks other people were tossing our way. “Now see here you… you… you… I am MICHAEL OWEN, star player of the LIVERPOOL soccer team!”
“Liverpool?” Her face was still a complete blank and I resisted the urge to slap her left, right, center. “Isn’t that the team that always loses to Man… Man something? Uh… Man… U?”
“Okay, lady,” now I was really riled up. “You’ve heard of Manchester United and you haven’t heard of Liverpool? C’mon! What the hell is this?”
And that bitch had the audacity to shrug! SHRUG! I was at boiling point by this time and I didn’t hold back when my hand pulled back and connected soundly with her cheek with a satisfying crack.
She looked at me in disbelief, her hand rising to cover her bruised cheek. I just smirked at her, ignoring the way my teammates were screaming at me to cut it out. She stared at me for a few minutes before raising her bag and whacking me across the head with it. I saw stars AGAIN, and stumbled backwards, clutching onto the handrail, or anything I could grasp. Unfortunately, one of the few things I grasped was a lady’s skirt. And it tore off of her were a ripping noise.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I protested as I continued wiping the floor. The manager had cornered the two of us and insisted that the mess HE had created was also MY fault. I glared angrily at him, pushing the stray strands of black hair out of my eyes. I had just tried to be friendly, smiling at him while he tried to collect my, um, stuff. After all, HE had collided into ME.
His intense blue eyes pierced into my black ones, and I couldn’t help blushing. I felt disgusted with myself. He was being a JERK but the only thoughts that were running through my head were only ‘Damn, is he sexy!’ He was short, there was no denying that, only about five feet six, but he had the most BEAUTIFUL eyes I had seen in a long, long time.
I became acutely aware of the fact that my hair was in a mess and my eyes were a dull shade of black. I looked down at the floor as he continued to stare at me patronizingly with those cursed blue eyes. I balled my hands into fists as I prayed for the strength to keep my hands out of his unruly blonde hair. It was weird… the way I always seemed to have a thing for blondes.
“Me?” his voice was pinched with anger. “It wasn’t my fault, lady! For the last f- damn time, IT WASN’T MY DAMNED FAULT! It was my mates’ faults… they dared me to walk up to you and ask you out on a friggin’ date. And now where are they? They’ve all run home to their mommies.”
He made a funny face and I laughed. His hands moved rapidly as he talked, showing his enthusiasm… for cursing.
“Right…” I said slowly, teasing him. “So your friends dared you to ask ME out on a date… uh huh…”
“Hey! It’s true!” he held up his hands defensively, as if daring me to say otherwise.
I just shrugged. “Michael, right?” I asked and he nodded. “You’ve got to have more courtesy in Singapore. I don’t know what you do in Liverpool, or whatever, but you don’t bump into ladies as you like around here.”
“BUMP?” Michael was almost shouting. He was attracting the stares of many other people, but I tried my best to ignore it. I was starting to realize that shouting and cursing seemed to be on top of his ‘what-I-like-to-do’ list. “I didn’t bump into you, for one thing. Second, you’re not a lady, you’re more of an OLD HAG. Three, we have plenty of manners in Liverpool and four I HAVE COURTESY!”
Tears stung my eyes as I tried desperately to blink them back. The comment about me being an old hag hurt. A lot. “You have courtesy and you’re shouting at me? Yeah, Liverpool DEFINITELY has its pluses.”
Michael just rolled his eyes, but I guess he noticed the quaver in my voice, because he stopped with the rude stuff. “So what’s your name?”
I looked up in surprise.
“Well, we’re gonna be working together for the next, what, few hours? You might as well introduce yourself.”
“I’m… I’m Poh Yolk,” I blushed as he continued scrubbing the floor, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second to show that he was listening. “My friends… they call me, um, egg yolk. You can call me, um, Eggie.”
I almost choked with laughter when I heard her give me her nicknames. “Eggie?” I choked out, in between guffaws. “EGGIE?”
“Um, yeah,” she smiled shyly, a cute blush spreading over her cheeks. Cute? I wondered to myself. Yeah right, about as cute as a cow’s ass. “D’you like it, Mikey?” she asked softly.
MIKEY?! I almost choked on my own laughter. “Eggie and Mikey?” I asked her, partly in disbelief. She nodded slowly, blushing even deeper. “What? Is that supposed to, like, be CUTE or something?”
Poh Yolk, or Egg Yolk or - ugh! - EGGIE nodded quickly, her smile growing wider and wider, revealing a set of gross, black, uneven teeth. I cringed at the sight and quickly backed away a little, pretending to be tying my shoelaces or something like that. She didn’t seem to notice.
“You love it, don’t you, Mikey?” Egg yolk tittered, making me feel like my lunch was going to come spurting out of my mouth any moment. “I just KNEW it. We’re connected!”
“Um, yeah… whatever, man!” I stood up and dusted my pants off. “I’m outta here!”
“But… I thought you were supposed to treat me to a drink or something?” I heard Poh Yolk ask in wonder and disappointment.
I stared down at her. Is she for real? I wondered to myself, almost laughing again. She is so thick-skinned… I made a mental note of the clothes she was wearing. More like a fashion disaster.
She had on a lime green ‘ELLE’ v-necked blouse, which made me quickly realize that green was so NOT her colour. She was never going to wear green again, as far as I was concerned. Ugh, she looks like a toad that got mashed up in the washing machine! My stomach churned at the thought.
I brought my hand to my mouth and tried not to puke. I shook my head quickly and ran for the bathroom. A mashed TOAD is trying to be MY girlfriend! I thought in utter bewilderment as the contents of my sandwich came up from my stomach and went into the water closet.
Finally, feeling my stomach muscles relax a little, I walked gingerly back out of the toilet, where Poh Yolk was frantically pacing the floor, her hands stuffed into her jeans pocket. Nope, I decided. Blue and green do not look good on her… well, not like anything would look good on her.
She heaved a sigh of relief and kissed me - KISSED - on the cheek, gushing, “Oh gosh, Mikey! I’m so glad you’re all right.” She rubbed the sweat off of my forehead, none too gently and dragged me into the nearest clothes shop.
I gasped in amazement as she began pulling dress after tasteless dress off of the racks. Her horribly short black hair fell all over her face in her mess in her haste. Her pudgy fingers reached to grab another item and she almost lost her balance in her hurry. Her fat figure squeezed itself into the dressing room, hauling all the clothes along. I couldn’t understand it. Did she think I was gonna pay for the stuff or something? Whoa… then she was in for a big surprise.
I smiled shyly as I stepped out of the dressing room, spinning in an exaggerated circle, wondering if he liked it. Mikey and Eggie! I couldn’t help thinking to myself delightedly. It sounded sooo good. Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie!
I couldn’t help repeating the phrase over and over in my head. I was practically bursting from joy. He was going to buy me clothes and he didn’t even raise a protest as to what I wanted. Unless… he didn’t have a budget!
With only that thought in mind, I reached to take his hands, spinning him around and around. The salespeople behind the counter looked at us like we were psychos, but I didn’t mind. And there was an amused twinkle in his eyes that told me he didn’t mind either.
I smiled and twirled around again. “So?”
“So what?” he snapped.
“Do you like it?”
He eyed the dress, scrutinizing it carefully. All at once, I felt butterflies in my stomach. He was just TOO cute. The girls behind the counter were practically swooning at him and their tongues were almost dangling out of their mouths but he had eyes only for me. Immediately, I felt like the luckiest woman alive.
I didn’t notice the way he looked at them, smiling flirtatiously, or the way he whistled and whacked one of their butts as they walked past. Nope, I only saw the way he looked at ME. And that was all I needed.
“Well?” I prodded again.
His eyes snapped back from where they had strayed to. I frowned when I realized what it was that he was looking at - the girls behind the counter. “Well, I think it’s okay. You know, go ahead and buy whatever you want.”
I almost jumped for joy. I scooped all the clothes I had pulled off the rack into my arms and held one hand out to him. He looked at me quizzically. “What?” he asked, clearly puzzled.
I shook my head and began rummaging through his pockets, despite his protests. I finally found what I was looking for - his credit cards. I pulled one of them out and handed them to the salesgirl, giving her a look that clearly read ‘hands off, he’s mine!’. “Oh shit!” Michael suddenly swore. And I spun around to look at him.
“We should be cleaning the floor right now! Damn! And I’ve got a dinner appointment! Damn, damn, damn!”
I almost laughed at his anxiousness. “Don’t worry Mikey,” I giggled stupidly, hating the way I sounded. “It’s only half past three. You have plenty of time. So where are you taking me to eat tonight?”
I stared at Poh Yolk in utter confusion. “Huh?”
She made an impatient noise through her nose and repeated her question, slowly this time. “Where… are… you… taking… me… to… eat… tonight?”
This was too much. First, she took my credit cards. I could handle that, I’m filthy rich! And then she asked me where I was taking her for dinner. Jesus, it was like I owed her a living or something, and I didn’t even know where she lived!
“Nowhere,” I told her bluntly. And her face fell. I felt a twinge of guilt. Almost. “Look, lady, I don’t know you and I don’t WANT to get to know you. You’re the one who gave me that bitchy, shameless look and LET me pick up your you-know-what off of the floor!”
“You do know me!” Poh Yolk insisted. “I’m Eggie and you’re Mikey!”
Jeez, it was so hard to get rid of her. My cheeks were burning red and I shook my head violently. “I know your name, Poh Yolk. But that’s it.”
“But… but…” Poh Yolk’s bottom lip trembled but I just rolled my eyes. “All right…” she finally sighed. “But will you at least walk me home first?”
I nodded reluctantly, forgetting all about cleaning the floor. And she had the audacity to PICK UP THE BAGS OF CLOTHES I PAID FOR! I almost slapped her again but I screamed for self control.
I rolled my eyes and walked out of the door, storming all the way. I hoped Poh Yolk knew I was angry, but I just rolled my eyes and forgot about it. She was undoubtedly the most thick-skinned person I had ever met in my life.
We walked out of the shopping mall, Poh Yolk still talking my ear off. I nodded occasionally, pretending to listen, when all along the only things that flashed in my mind were that of my teammates and how I was going to bash their faces at the soonest chance I got.
“And I was talking to her and she told me that the dress was the worst thing she had ever seen!” I suddenly tuned back to what Poh Yolk was saying and sighed, still nodding my head. I was beginning to feel like a doll - the kind that kept nodding its head once you prodded it.
“It was, like, two pieces. The bra was so skimpy that it revealed almost everything! And the skirt! It was so short she might as well just have worn her-” Poh Yolk was still gesturing excitedly when I decided to cut her long tale short.
“Yeah, I KNOW, Poh Yolk! Your stupid friend has lousy taste and yours just sucks. So why don’t you and your stupid girl friends go arrange a party? STOP telling me stuff I don’t wanna know!”
I couldn’t understand it. One minute, we were all buddy-buddy and the next he jumps at the chance to bite my head off. I really didn’t get him. I just shrugged and tried to get used to the comments. They stung but if I ignored them long enough, they would go away.
“All right,” I finally said, pointing at the traffic junction. “Just cross over there and we’re done.”
Mikey heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief but I just smiled. I wasn’t going to let him insult me again.
We crossed the road when he started talking about soccer. In all honesty, I had no inkling what the whole idea of the game was about. Twelve - or was it eleven? - grown men kicking a measly ball into a net for ninety - or was it more? - minutes. What was so fun about that?
I stopped in the middle of the road and glared at Mikey. “Just shut up, I don’t care about soccer.”
Mikey just gaped at me, unable to do anything more. It was only when I heard a scream pierce the air that I realized a truck had just run over me. And Mikey. It was weird. I didn’t feel anything - just a sort of numbing pain. And even that soon left me.
But a solitary tear trickled down my cheek when I noticed Mikey’s heart. It was grossly torn in two in the middle of the road. And the remainders of whatever he ever had for a brain? They were splattered.
-fin-
Mikey And Eggie
I walked towards her, feeling my heartbeat accelerate, all for the wrong reasons. I hadn’t seen anyone as, um, beautiful as her, in a long time. Most people would think I was weird, because she wasn’t what they’d call ‘gorgeous’. But I knew better. I knew, that underneath that strange, hideous face, there was a kind, attractive, WONDERFUL soul. Or so I hoped.
I turned back to my sniggering so-called friends, wanting to turn back time. I wanted them to take their dare back. I wanted to shut my big mouth and keep it that way. Dammit, I cursed silently. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why did I have to open this stupid gap of mine?
But their soft laughter only egged me on. I was determined to stick it through. I had started the dare, and I was going to end it. “Shit,” I couldn’t help cursing as I turned back to face her. She was walking rapidly towards the exit, probably too ashamed to show her ugly face to the world any longer. I sucked in a deep breath and ran towards her, deliberately keeping my pace slower than usual, hoping that I would miss her. No such luck.
“Uh…” I stammered as I accidentally-on-purpose collided into her, wincing when she dropped her stuff. I bent down to help her pick them up, but her forehead crashed into mine and for a minute there, I saw stars. “Here, let me help you,” I offered, when my vision finally cleared.
She was rubbing her forehead, where a huge lump had risen. What a dork. She nodded numbly, pointing at the floor and continuing to rub the bump. I could hear my mates giggling as I leaned down to pick the stuff up. My cheeks flushed pink as I realized what she had bought.
An extravagant array of bras, underwear and pads littered the floor. I picked them up slowly, one by one, wincing when my fingers came into contact with those - ugh! - pads. I looked at her and saw that she was SMIRKING at me. “For heaven’s sake,” I muttered under my breath. “Get some modesty.”
I picked up the rest of her ‘stuff’, all the time refusing to acknowledge her disgusting, bitchy smile. Damn her! I cursed silently. How DARE she laugh at ME? Doesn’t she know who I am? I’m Michael Owen, for God’s sake, star player of Liverpool!
I glanced up at her and thrust the stuff into her outstretched arms. It was all I could do not to slap that whore. “Dammit woman!” I yelled at her. “Can you go get some manners? Sheesh!”
She just stared blankly at me, tapping her foot on the cold floor tiles in that infuriating way women do. “Who’s yelling at who, young man?”
“YOUNG MAN!?” I screeched, ignoring the funny looks other people were tossing our way. “Now see here you… you… you… I am MICHAEL OWEN, star player of the LIVERPOOL soccer team!”
“Liverpool?” Her face was still a complete blank and I resisted the urge to slap her left, right, center. “Isn’t that the team that always loses to Man… Man something? Uh… Man… U?”
“Okay, lady,” now I was really riled up. “You’ve heard of Manchester United and you haven’t heard of Liverpool? C’mon! What the hell is this?”
And that bitch had the audacity to shrug! SHRUG! I was at boiling point by this time and I didn’t hold back when my hand pulled back and connected soundly with her cheek with a satisfying crack.
She looked at me in disbelief, her hand rising to cover her bruised cheek. I just smirked at her, ignoring the way my teammates were screaming at me to cut it out. She stared at me for a few minutes before raising her bag and whacking me across the head with it. I saw stars AGAIN, and stumbled backwards, clutching onto the handrail, or anything I could grasp. Unfortunately, one of the few things I grasped was a lady’s skirt. And it tore off of her were a ripping noise.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I protested as I continued wiping the floor. The manager had cornered the two of us and insisted that the mess HE had created was also MY fault. I glared angrily at him, pushing the stray strands of black hair out of my eyes. I had just tried to be friendly, smiling at him while he tried to collect my, um, stuff. After all, HE had collided into ME.
His intense blue eyes pierced into my black ones, and I couldn’t help blushing. I felt disgusted with myself. He was being a JERK but the only thoughts that were running through my head were only ‘Damn, is he sexy!’ He was short, there was no denying that, only about five feet six, but he had the most BEAUTIFUL eyes I had seen in a long, long time.
I became acutely aware of the fact that my hair was in a mess and my eyes were a dull shade of black. I looked down at the floor as he continued to stare at me patronizingly with those cursed blue eyes. I balled my hands into fists as I prayed for the strength to keep my hands out of his unruly blonde hair. It was weird… the way I always seemed to have a thing for blondes.
“Me?” his voice was pinched with anger. “It wasn’t my fault, lady! For the last f- damn time, IT WASN’T MY DAMNED FAULT! It was my mates’ faults… they dared me to walk up to you and ask you out on a friggin’ date. And now where are they? They’ve all run home to their mommies.”
He made a funny face and I laughed. His hands moved rapidly as he talked, showing his enthusiasm… for cursing.
“Right…” I said slowly, teasing him. “So your friends dared you to ask ME out on a date… uh huh…”
“Hey! It’s true!” he held up his hands defensively, as if daring me to say otherwise.
I just shrugged. “Michael, right?” I asked and he nodded. “You’ve got to have more courtesy in Singapore. I don’t know what you do in Liverpool, or whatever, but you don’t bump into ladies as you like around here.”
“BUMP?” Michael was almost shouting. He was attracting the stares of many other people, but I tried my best to ignore it. I was starting to realize that shouting and cursing seemed to be on top of his ‘what-I-like-to-do’ list. “I didn’t bump into you, for one thing. Second, you’re not a lady, you’re more of an OLD HAG. Three, we have plenty of manners in Liverpool and four I HAVE COURTESY!”
Tears stung my eyes as I tried desperately to blink them back. The comment about me being an old hag hurt. A lot. “You have courtesy and you’re shouting at me? Yeah, Liverpool DEFINITELY has its pluses.”
Michael just rolled his eyes, but I guess he noticed the quaver in my voice, because he stopped with the rude stuff. “So what’s your name?”
I looked up in surprise.
“Well, we’re gonna be working together for the next, what, few hours? You might as well introduce yourself.”
“I’m… I’m Poh Yolk,” I blushed as he continued scrubbing the floor, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second to show that he was listening. “My friends… they call me, um, egg yolk. You can call me, um, Eggie.”
I almost choked with laughter when I heard her give me her nicknames. “Eggie?” I choked out, in between guffaws. “EGGIE?”
“Um, yeah,” she smiled shyly, a cute blush spreading over her cheeks. Cute? I wondered to myself. Yeah right, about as cute as a cow’s ass. “D’you like it, Mikey?” she asked softly.
MIKEY?! I almost choked on my own laughter. “Eggie and Mikey?” I asked her, partly in disbelief. She nodded slowly, blushing even deeper. “What? Is that supposed to, like, be CUTE or something?”
Poh Yolk, or Egg Yolk or - ugh! - EGGIE nodded quickly, her smile growing wider and wider, revealing a set of gross, black, uneven teeth. I cringed at the sight and quickly backed away a little, pretending to be tying my shoelaces or something like that. She didn’t seem to notice.
“You love it, don’t you, Mikey?” Egg yolk tittered, making me feel like my lunch was going to come spurting out of my mouth any moment. “I just KNEW it. We’re connected!”
“Um, yeah… whatever, man!” I stood up and dusted my pants off. “I’m outta here!”
“But… I thought you were supposed to treat me to a drink or something?” I heard Poh Yolk ask in wonder and disappointment.
I stared down at her. Is she for real? I wondered to myself, almost laughing again. She is so thick-skinned… I made a mental note of the clothes she was wearing. More like a fashion disaster.
She had on a lime green ‘ELLE’ v-necked blouse, which made me quickly realize that green was so NOT her colour. She was never going to wear green again, as far as I was concerned. Ugh, she looks like a toad that got mashed up in the washing machine! My stomach churned at the thought.
I brought my hand to my mouth and tried not to puke. I shook my head quickly and ran for the bathroom. A mashed TOAD is trying to be MY girlfriend! I thought in utter bewilderment as the contents of my sandwich came up from my stomach and went into the water closet.
Finally, feeling my stomach muscles relax a little, I walked gingerly back out of the toilet, where Poh Yolk was frantically pacing the floor, her hands stuffed into her jeans pocket. Nope, I decided. Blue and green do not look good on her… well, not like anything would look good on her.
She heaved a sigh of relief and kissed me - KISSED - on the cheek, gushing, “Oh gosh, Mikey! I’m so glad you’re all right.” She rubbed the sweat off of my forehead, none too gently and dragged me into the nearest clothes shop.
I gasped in amazement as she began pulling dress after tasteless dress off of the racks. Her horribly short black hair fell all over her face in her mess in her haste. Her pudgy fingers reached to grab another item and she almost lost her balance in her hurry. Her fat figure squeezed itself into the dressing room, hauling all the clothes along. I couldn’t understand it. Did she think I was gonna pay for the stuff or something? Whoa… then she was in for a big surprise.
I smiled shyly as I stepped out of the dressing room, spinning in an exaggerated circle, wondering if he liked it. Mikey and Eggie! I couldn’t help thinking to myself delightedly. It sounded sooo good. Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie! Mikey and Eggie!
I couldn’t help repeating the phrase over and over in my head. I was practically bursting from joy. He was going to buy me clothes and he didn’t even raise a protest as to what I wanted. Unless… he didn’t have a budget!
With only that thought in mind, I reached to take his hands, spinning him around and around. The salespeople behind the counter looked at us like we were psychos, but I didn’t mind. And there was an amused twinkle in his eyes that told me he didn’t mind either.
I smiled and twirled around again. “So?”
“So what?” he snapped.
“Do you like it?”
He eyed the dress, scrutinizing it carefully. All at once, I felt butterflies in my stomach. He was just TOO cute. The girls behind the counter were practically swooning at him and their tongues were almost dangling out of their mouths but he had eyes only for me. Immediately, I felt like the luckiest woman alive.
I didn’t notice the way he looked at them, smiling flirtatiously, or the way he whistled and whacked one of their butts as they walked past. Nope, I only saw the way he looked at ME. And that was all I needed.
“Well?” I prodded again.
His eyes snapped back from where they had strayed to. I frowned when I realized what it was that he was looking at - the girls behind the counter. “Well, I think it’s okay. You know, go ahead and buy whatever you want.”
I almost jumped for joy. I scooped all the clothes I had pulled off the rack into my arms and held one hand out to him. He looked at me quizzically. “What?” he asked, clearly puzzled.
I shook my head and began rummaging through his pockets, despite his protests. I finally found what I was looking for - his credit cards. I pulled one of them out and handed them to the salesgirl, giving her a look that clearly read ‘hands off, he’s mine!’. “Oh shit!” Michael suddenly swore. And I spun around to look at him.
“We should be cleaning the floor right now! Damn! And I’ve got a dinner appointment! Damn, damn, damn!”
I almost laughed at his anxiousness. “Don’t worry Mikey,” I giggled stupidly, hating the way I sounded. “It’s only half past three. You have plenty of time. So where are you taking me to eat tonight?”
I stared at Poh Yolk in utter confusion. “Huh?”
She made an impatient noise through her nose and repeated her question, slowly this time. “Where… are… you… taking… me… to… eat… tonight?”
This was too much. First, she took my credit cards. I could handle that, I’m filthy rich! And then she asked me where I was taking her for dinner. Jesus, it was like I owed her a living or something, and I didn’t even know where she lived!
“Nowhere,” I told her bluntly. And her face fell. I felt a twinge of guilt. Almost. “Look, lady, I don’t know you and I don’t WANT to get to know you. You’re the one who gave me that bitchy, shameless look and LET me pick up your you-know-what off of the floor!”
“You do know me!” Poh Yolk insisted. “I’m Eggie and you’re Mikey!”
Jeez, it was so hard to get rid of her. My cheeks were burning red and I shook my head violently. “I know your name, Poh Yolk. But that’s it.”
“But… but…” Poh Yolk’s bottom lip trembled but I just rolled my eyes. “All right…” she finally sighed. “But will you at least walk me home first?”
I nodded reluctantly, forgetting all about cleaning the floor. And she had the audacity to PICK UP THE BAGS OF CLOTHES I PAID FOR! I almost slapped her again but I screamed for self control.
I rolled my eyes and walked out of the door, storming all the way. I hoped Poh Yolk knew I was angry, but I just rolled my eyes and forgot about it. She was undoubtedly the most thick-skinned person I had ever met in my life.
We walked out of the shopping mall, Poh Yolk still talking my ear off. I nodded occasionally, pretending to listen, when all along the only things that flashed in my mind were that of my teammates and how I was going to bash their faces at the soonest chance I got.
“And I was talking to her and she told me that the dress was the worst thing she had ever seen!” I suddenly tuned back to what Poh Yolk was saying and sighed, still nodding my head. I was beginning to feel like a doll - the kind that kept nodding its head once you prodded it.
“It was, like, two pieces. The bra was so skimpy that it revealed almost everything! And the skirt! It was so short she might as well just have worn her-” Poh Yolk was still gesturing excitedly when I decided to cut her long tale short.
“Yeah, I KNOW, Poh Yolk! Your stupid friend has lousy taste and yours just sucks. So why don’t you and your stupid girl friends go arrange a party? STOP telling me stuff I don’t wanna know!”
I couldn’t understand it. One minute, we were all buddy-buddy and the next he jumps at the chance to bite my head off. I really didn’t get him. I just shrugged and tried to get used to the comments. They stung but if I ignored them long enough, they would go away.
“All right,” I finally said, pointing at the traffic junction. “Just cross over there and we’re done.”
Mikey heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief but I just smiled. I wasn’t going to let him insult me again.
We crossed the road when he started talking about soccer. In all honesty, I had no inkling what the whole idea of the game was about. Twelve - or was it eleven? - grown men kicking a measly ball into a net for ninety - or was it more? - minutes. What was so fun about that?
I stopped in the middle of the road and glared at Mikey. “Just shut up, I don’t care about soccer.”
Mikey just gaped at me, unable to do anything more. It was only when I heard a scream pierce the air that I realized a truck had just run over me. And Mikey. It was weird. I didn’t feel anything - just a sort of numbing pain. And even that soon left me.
But a solitary tear trickled down my cheek when I noticed Mikey’s heart. It was grossly torn in two in the middle of the road. And the remainders of whatever he ever had for a brain? They were splattered.
-fin-