ALL NOVEL To Prove Her wrong
“Who the shit does this entitled brat think he is? Prove him wrong? What the shit even is that? Ugh, if I didn’t already make that bet with Venessa I would’ve just told him to fuck off”
“Yeah, like, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone” Steph says.
“Except Vanessa apparently…”
“God, Hayley. You know it’s not like that I just want her off my fucking ass for once!”
“I still think this is a bad idea, Lyssa. You know making fun of trans people isn’t fucking cool. Why are you stooping to her level?”
“I’m not stooping to her level Hayley. God, why are you being so bitchy about this?”
I hate speaking to Hayley like this. Her skin isn’t as thick as Steph’s, and she doesn’t deserve it anyway, but she’s been on a tirade ever since I made the bet.
“Besides, I’m NOT making fun of trans people. I’m just going to give this loser creep an upgrade. He already likes makeup, I’m going to make him look so fucking pretty. I’m basically already doing a charity service for him.”
”Yeah Lee that faggy little bitch is going to love it anyway, what’s the big deal?”
“Shut the fuck up Steph. Why do you always have to be like that?”
“You’re being So aggressive Hayley. Look I’m sorry you’re upset but it’s already a done deal so can’t you two just help me pick a cute soup kitchen outfit already?”
“Lyssa, I just know you’re better than this, you two both are. I’m going to hang up now but I hope you have good luck playing right into Vanessa’s grimy little hands.” She says, disconnecting from face chat.
“She’s being So mean to me for no fucking reason! Gah, I hate when she’s mad at me!” I say, feeling like I’m on the verge of tears already.
“Oh, I know right? It’s good to see Lee has claws though right? Like I could do without all the fucked up moral grandstanding and whatnot, but she really can stand up for herself can’t she?”
“Stand up for herself? She doesn’t need to stand up for herself against us??? I don’t know why she’s more mad at me than she is with Vanessa! It’s her dumb bet.”
“Yeah, but like, you’re the hothead who agreed to it bitch.”
“You’re the one who egged me on bitch!”
“I was just trying to get you out of bed so you could stop being, like, so fucking depressing.”
“I was being depressing? Who here stayed in bed for 3 days straight after their former bestie Brittney stopped talking to her?”
“Ugh, that slut. Don’t even remind me of her. Besides, that’s like, my fucking point bitch? You were there for me when I was being a whiny bitch. I was just trying to repay the favor.”
“Well now I have to give food to a bunch of dirty ass hobos with that Eli creep because of it!”
“It’s so, like, presumptive of him to assume that you don’t even do charity right?”
“Yeah, I mean I’m a church girlie. I’ve done charity before! I’m so tired of brainrot tiktok gooners assuming they know every fucking thing about me based on my internet persona alone. Like it’s not fucking real idiots. It’s all exaggerated, of fucking course!”
“Yeah you’re only barely as bitchy in person as you are online!”
“It’s what the fans want anyway.”
“Right? It’s, like, hard to be popular as a girl online unless you’re hot bitchy and or fucking stupid.”
“And you’re the trifecta bitch!”
“Hehehe Ohmigod! Thank you!! It’s, like So sexist, if you think about it?, but, like, everyone loves a gossipy ass bitch riiiight?”
“Right?”
“Yeah, Bitch. Agreed.”
“So, anyway, what do I even fucking wear? Should I wear a cardigan and some jeans or like some slacks and a button up in a boss ass bitch kind of way, or what?”
“Ew, what are you trying to look like, my mom?”
“That’s casual business wear bitch! Besides, I look So hot in a button up with cuffed sleeves”
“Girl, no. You’re gonna get, like, gross homeless people germs all over your cunty middle aged woman look.”
“Okay, true I wouldn’t want to stain anything, but it’s not like I’m going to wear fucking overalls.”
“Oh! Girl. You should wear, like, a plaid button up overshirt with some like Juicy Couture skinny jeans?”
“Yes, bitch! Finally! You’re so right. I will be serving blue collar pussy all over the gross ass soup kitchen.”
Where the fuck is he? Here I am standing outside this food bank wearing knock off Versace tortoiseshell sunglasses and a fake Gucci purse freezing my clit off in the worst part of fucking town and he has the fucking nerve to be late?
“Hey, Hayley. We good right? 🥺😟💖♥️😩😿” I text Hayley over Snap.
Suddenly my phone pings with a message from Eli. Who even uses sms messages anymore? We had swapped contacts so that he could share the address of the location and we could keep in touch in case something bad happened. God I hope that’s the case and he just decided to flake. I’m so not ready to have to smell gross ass drunk ass men clambering for cold clam stew all day.
“Decided not to come?” The message reads.
What the shit does that mean? You’re the one who’s no show dickweed.
“Wtf u talking abt? I’m literally right outside. Where are u?”
“Sorry, forgot to mention. You have to come in through the door in the back. I came early to help set up for the day.”
The fucking Nerve! This creep has me standing outside for no fucking reason. God! I walk around the side of the old brownstone through the gated parking lot and see a big heavy steel door. I knock on the door and a big hairy man with a fanny pack opens the door.
“Hi! Are you here for the food pantry? The entrance is around the other end of the building. We’re still setting up but we’ll open up in a bit.”
“What? No. Do I look like I’m here for the food pantry?!”
“Oh, Sorry. You must be the new volunteer! Elle told us you might be here!” He says, stepping away from the entrance, while holding the door to let me in.
“Elle?”
“Do you two not know each other?” He asks, as I spot Eli standing like a timid deer cowering behind him.
“You mean Eli?”
“Eli?” He asks, this time the questions directed at the lithe little brat.
“Um, yeah but all my friends call me Elle.” He says, tucking a lock of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.”
He has friends?
“Ah, see then,” the man says, with an infectious grin. “My name’s Jefferey by the way. Have you ever worked in a food kitchen before?”
The question catches me a bit off guard and I suddenly feel as mousey as Eli looks as if I’m getting chastised by my old youth pastor.
“I’ve done some community service before but none in a soup kitchen.”
“That’s okay. Elle here and I can show you the ropes. Why don’t you grab some boxes of cans and follow us into the kitchen.”
Eli looks to be struggling trying to carry a single box. I put my glasses in my bag, and pull my hair back into a pony-tail. I grab three stacked boxes from the bottom, suddenly really glad I decided to wear my chucks instead of heels. Eli looks rather impressed as he awkwardly fumbles with the box he’s carrying. I walk through the double doors and place my soup can boxes on the nearest counter. I turn and see Eli about to drop his box trying his hardest.
“Here let me help.”
“Um, thanks.” He says, avoiding eye contact.
I grab the box from him and place it next to mine on the counter. So much for men being stronger than women, ha. Not that Eli is the best example of a man’s man. Frankly I get why Vanessa chose Eli for all those nasty crossdressing rumors and for the bet as well. If Eli’s clothes were less raggedy worn out and dusty and she actually washed her hair I could definitely mistake him for a girl.
“Thanks ladies.” Jeff says.
I look at Eli and his face is clearly red with embarrassment, but he’s too much of a floor mat to correct him it seems.
“So next we are going to want to put on some gloves and hairnets okay? The volunteers outside should be finished setting up tables by now and we have our crew here in the kitchen so I’m going to have you two on serving duty. Do you need help carrying the pot out to the table?”
“Nope. I got it.” I say confidently, tying my hair up into a messy bun.
“I’ll get the bowls.” Eli mutters.
I grab some gloves from the box and fit the hairnet over my head.
“Can you show me how you did that?” Eli asks, as I put my gloves on.
“How to do what?” I ask, seeing Eli struggle trying to blindly make a bun with what little hair he has.
“God, no, stop. Here, I’ll do it for you.” I say, tying his greasy hair up, trying my best to stay civil.
The dumb bitch is like a lost little puppy trying desperately to not trip on its own feet. It’s almost adorable in a gross clumsy nerd kind of way.