HOT TOPIC Another metal song came on from the speakers above me. I look up at them. My eyes travel down and straight ahead to a figure that was approaching me. Ginger. She was coming at me with her mascara running down her cheeks, her head down, crying and wiping at her black tears. Her yellow, blond hair flew behind her from side to side. In her sleeveless, not-covering-her-stomach, David Bowie from The Hunger t-shirt and torn black skinny jeans and combat boots, she strides towards me with powerful steps. She was highly upset. Shit. What now? She bumps her arm against mines and turns to face me. "She's a bitch," she exhales. "Tangy?" I take a wild guess. "Yeah, I caught her with some chick. They looked like they were on a date." I believed that Ginger was on the sensitive side. Tangy was always cheating on her. "Maybe she was with a cousin," I say as I eye the bracelets on the bracelet rack. "No, they were holding hands." ...
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