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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/717998-If-you-play-with-fire
by fregin
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Personal · #717998
Destiny is a strong force...or is it a choice?
If you play with fire….

         She was the bitch. I was the snob.

         She was audacious and loud and outgoing and simply didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. If a topic was considered taboo, she’d talk about it to everyone she passed. She thought pot was great and tie-dyed was cool. She didn’t really believe in makeup and wore her thick, dark blond hair straight and to her waist.

         We worked in a clothing store together in different but adjoining departments. We’d pass by each other and didn’t speak, her innocent look in place that really disguised her smirk, my expression unaffected that said I was above the immaturity.

         We went to a bar in Austin one night with a group from work, not knowing or really caring that the other would be there. Being that we were only 19 years old, we drank plenty of alcohol before we arrived so that we could prove we were fun loving and intelligent through the night to come.

         We mingled and mixed and moved through the group until she walked (stumbled) behind me and stabbed her cigarette into my hair. I was oblivious until a screech that could be heard around the world followed, and then she slurred her apologies for burning my hair. I eloquently expressed that it was no big deal. We hugged and hugged again and then hugged a bit more (drunk people are an affectionate lot).

         I don’t know if either of us realized the significance of that moment, but discovering one of your soulmates in life is monumental.

         11 years later…we’ve been through marriages and divorces, death and life. We like to snip at each other and pout when we don’t get our way. We fight over the role of “supreme princess.”

         She’ll still talk to you about any topic she sees fit and entertain you even as you blush, and she has me to tell her when to behave or mind her own business (if her husband doesn’t get there first). She still thinks hippies are cool and tie-dyed was the peak of fashion; I criticize her clothes at every opportunity.

         Ours has been an adventurous friendship, and thanks to a little fire burning and a lot of love, we finally learned…she’s still the bitch and I’m still the snob.

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