Mean Girls met an Angry Girl

They play innocent. Her new closest friend and fuck, accompanied by her latest best friend. I, the backdrop to acknowledge their Perfect Pitch Mean Girls cacophony. I pardon my interruption, and return to seat. She retreat to a corner to gloat, and glare in my peripheral. Her mare about face. Yes, really. Tito’s and soda—who knows. The creepy vibe is only because she moved to the next.