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By Ashleigh Yates All Rights Reserved ©
“Sara, I am not going on a blind date,” I hissed into my phone as I perused the newest collection of Valentino stilettos in Nordstrom. “Do you have these in red?” I whispered to the sales clerk, hoping my annoying sister wouldn’t hear me.
“Destiny, are you seriously in Nordstrom again?” Sara asked in disbelief.
I frowned. “How did you know what store I was in?”
“Look up, bitch.”
My eyes darted up and to my shock and horror, Sara was stood right in front of me, dressed head to toe in purple velvet.
“Two questions. One, what the hell are you doing here? And two, what the fuck are you wearing?”
She rolled her eyes and marched over to me pulling me from the mountain of shoe boxes that had piled up around me.
“I was in the middle of a video shoot when I remembered that it’s ‘Destiny spiral day’.”
I pushed a lock of my curly blonde hair behind one ear and crossed my arms, staring at her in confusion. “I’m sorry. It’s what day?”
“You know. It’s February 13th. Your spiral day.”
“Still not ringing a bell.”
“You get all sad and buy a shit ton of shoes before drinking yourself stupid.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sara gave me a knowing look and I caved.
“I know that’s what I’ve done every year since I was sixteen but this year is different!”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“This year, I’m a university graduate and I have my dream job. I’ve got everything figured out.”
The store clerk returned with the shoes I had requested. “Box all of this up and have it delivered to my apartment, please.”
Her eyes lit up. She was probably thinking of the fat commission check she was going to get. “Absolutely Miss Davie. Would you like me to charge it to your account or your mother’s?”
“My mother’s account of course. And get yourself something nice while you’re at it. Maybe that new Marc Jacobs bag over there.”
I grabbed my Birkin bag and headed for the door with Sara hot on my heels. “Destiny, that was wrong and you know it.”
I shrugged and kept walking, hoping to lose her in the crowd. She was the lead singer in Britain’s hottest girl group, Hearts Four. I was surprised people hadn’t started taking pictures yet. “You know my relationship with our mother is complicated. And by complicated, I mean that I hate the bitch.”
Hearing no response from Sara, I looked over my shoulder and noticed that she had been swarmed by a group of teenagers. I smiled and slipped on my sunglasses as I headed to the car park. I may or may not have tweeted her location in an effort to be free of my pesky sister. Whoops.
