She scoffed. Sherry wouldn’t dare answer anymore of Bardot’s questions. They were as stupid, and self-centered as the blonde herself. Sherry did have plenty to say, though. But she could say it to Max, or Cherry even—perhaps Sherry would mumble her opinions to herself, just to get them out of her head. All she knew was that she would get the jumbled, confused words out of her head somehow. And that it wouldn’t be talking to Bardot.
That’s what she told herself anyway. In reality, though, Sherry wouldn’t be able to keep her thoughts bottled up inside her head. If she did, eventually she’d go crazy. That half crazy she almost was, the half crazy people got after being hurt; Sherry was almost sure it was called delusional.
The brunette grabbed her cigs, turned them over in her hand, feeling the box, contemplating them, as if she hadn’t decided she was going to inhale-exhale them already. Bardot would look at her hands, instead of her face—her pink cheeks, her not done lips, her moody, sunken in eyes, the certain innocence she wished would go away—because that’s what Sherry wanted. What she wanted more than the taste of nicotine on her tounge.
“We don’t. We can’t stand each other. Trust? We don’t know the meaning of that, either. And, you do know you are a stripper? Men make rules. Girls follow them. Didn’t they teach you that where you came from?” Sherry knew her last remark was something of a low blow, but she wasn’t one to care much about things like that. It didn’t matter. They were just words.
Bardot just rolled her eyes and sighed. The other girl was probably interpreting her words all wrong. Probably twisting them in her head to fit her own vision of her being self-centered and snooty. Which she wasn’t but everyone always seemed to think that. She didn’t quite know why. She tried to be as good hearted as possible but all Sherry did was twist her words and be rude or bitchy. She shook her head and turned it. She felt awful like she would cry at any moment.
She barely noticed that her eyes started to fill with tears out of frustration with the whole situation. She was just trying to be nice and talk sense into the girl…but she guessed it wasn’t working and probably would never work. She turned her head as her eyes glittered with tears and her heeled leg shook as she tried to prevent her tears from spilling over. She was always misunderstood by Sherry…but everyone it seemed. Everyone either thought she was a snooty and self-centered bitch or an air head.
Bardot tried to keep her voice even as she put her hands on her dressing table then she picked up her lipstick and started to apply it. “Its fine. You don’t seem to care or understand what I am tryin’ to say. You obviously twist my words into somethin’ else in your mind. I don’t want to talk anymore.” She said trying to keep her words even. She always tried to be nice to people…and it seemed to get her nowhere with Sherry. It didn’t mean she was going to change herself, though…it did mean she was rather hurt. She ignored Sherry’s silly and petty words and just stared at her slightly red rimmed eyes the mirror.
She guessed she would just have to suffer through Cherry and Sherry’s catty nastiness…she would have to grin and bare it the way she always has.