Survival Of The Fittest

Leila Langford & Trent Savage

Why did I agree to this?

Dragging his feet, the hunched figure of Trent Savage looked as though he was stalking the smartly-dressed girl ahead of him, who was quickly becoming frustrated with the dishevelled boy. Stopping suddenly, she turned on her heel and scowled directly at him as she let out an irritated sigh. "Will you hurry up? I need to buy a new outfit before the mall closes, and I'm never going to get one if you keep skulking behind me like a fucking head-case." Admittedly, they weren't exactly best friends.

"Ugh, this was such a bad idea."

Okay, so they weren't really friends at all. Trent was friends with Violet, who in turn was friends with Leila because the latter starred in their films. Hilary could usually be seen tagging along behind Leila, but she was ill today, and Violet had her bowling night, so the "actress" had no choice but to bring Trent along. His eyes would've burned holes straight through her head at that point, but he didn't have such a power, so he had to be content with simply glaring at her until he felt calm again.

Eventually, they reached a clothes store which Leila actually wanted to look around in, and so the two entered with an uncomfortable silence lingering between them. Neither of them were in the mood for small talk, which would probably make it easier for the starlet to find a fairly decent outfit for the party she'd been invited to. Flicking through the skirts with a look of boredom about her, she wondered what Hilary was going to wear that night.

She better not wear blue. I'm wearing blue, I already have a dress in mind. If she does wear blue though, I'll just have to make her wear white. She looks good in white, so it'll be fine. Yeah, blue and white. Tch, how come I don't look good in white? Bitch, I'll just spill beer on it, that'll teach her.

After finding nothing that caught her interest, she pulled Trent away from the window and dragged him to the next store across the promenade. This time she'd look through the short-cropped dresses in hopes of finding something that would show off her legs. Unenthused at the thought of having to look through more expensive clothes, Trent wondered about leaving Leila in the shop and heading back home. Looking at the time on his phone, he swore under his breath as he realised he wasn't going to have time to go bowling today. Glancing up at the girl as she skimmed her fingers through a variety of dressed on a rail nearby, he smirked to himself.

Alright, you wanna make me miss our bowling night, huh?

Fine then.

Wandering over to where Leila was standing, Trent watched as she picked out a navy blue dress with a ribbon laced around the right shoulder.

"You don't wanna get that."

Leila's eyes widened as he spoke, wondering why he suddenly had such an interest in what she wanted to buy.

"And why not?"

Slowly raising his finger on purpose to make himself look unwilling to say anything, he pointed to the ribbon and spoke quietly.

"Well, I figured you wouldn't draw attention to your arms, that's all."

If there was anything he'd learned from their mindless conversations about clothes, it was that girls hated their flaws being pointed out. Purposefully avoiding being too explicit with it, he knew that she'd put the dress back without question and walk over to the next lot of dresses.

"Excuse me? My arms? What's wrong with my arms? You think I have a problem with my arms, you shit?"

Slamming the dress back onto the rail, she stormed up to Trent and angrily grabbed his shirt.

"Look, Savage. I didn't bring you here so you could try and get one up on me. I'm not a fucking retard, so don't think I don't know why you came along. You only came because you knew it would make Violet happy if we tried to get along."

Tightening her fist around the rough, dirty fabric around his collar, she continued.

"But me and you are never going to get along. Ever. You know why?"

Trent stood with his mouth open, shocked at this ferocious side of the girl who always seemed so cool and in control whenever they were all together.

"Because you can't stand the fact that Violet would rather spend time with me than hang around in dingy little bowling alleys with a freak like you."

Shoving him back as she let go of his shirt, she grabbed the dress from the rail and marched on over to the counter, leaving Trent stunned as the other shoppers whispered excitedly to one another, turning their backs on him.

Trent Savage

What... just happened?

Astonished, Trent glanced over to where Leila was now buying the dress, and wondered how long she'd harboured such a strong feeling of disdain for him. At first he thought about telling Violet about their "conversation", but he quickly realised that he had no proof that it had even happened, and since the girls were both friends, she probably wouldn't believe him. As things stood, Trent had always thought very little of the attention-seeker, and would often tell her exactly what he thought of her. This was what made today's proceedings so odd in the first place, since they would never usually hang out together. Yet, that was just it. What Leila had said before about him cosying up to her purely for Violet's sake was absolutely true, and now that Trent knew that everyone else knew, he was at a loss for words.

With a loud grunt, he stepped out of the shop and started on his trip back home. Knowing that his little brother would be out, he thought about watching some porn to let off some steam. Listing all the different sites he often frequented at night in his head, he slowly forgot about the argument he'd caused with Leila and eventually found himself outside of the mall. Standing at the entrance, he leaned against the doorway as he began to recollect his thoughts.

I guess I shouldn't have tried to make fun of her. I mean, I don't know her that well, so it must've seemed like I was being a douche or something.

With that in mind, he was even considering apologising to her about what he'd said, before remembering what she'd said right back, and how much ruder it was. Even though they didn't like each other, she didn't have to go and insult him like that, especially since it had hit such a sore point.

She was right though. Lately they've been spending so much time together, I've barely been able to spend any time with Violet.

Folding his arms as he leant further back, he wondered why he'd been so bothered by it all. Perhaps it was simply because he and Violet had been friends for so long that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of his friend hanging out with anyone else. That wasn't all it could've been though, he knew. It was no secret that he wasn't the most social person in the world, and he realised that if Violet became better acquainted with Leila, then he'd have no-one. His family were self-involved and deluded, while the people at school were too lively for his tastes. Shaking his head, he took a step away from the doorway, thinking about the things that Leila had said to him. With a quiet sigh, he ruffled his hair with the palm of his hand and began the long walk home.

((Trent Savage continued elsewhere.))

A job was a job was a job was a job, and Ricky Fortino had no aversion to work. And sure, working in the back room at Old Navy wasn't the greatest job going, but at least he wasn't out on the floor having to deal with the customers. Not his style. In the back he could work when he needed to and lay back when he didn't need to, and sure it was minimum wage crap, but he could stand that till he got out of school.

Because Ricky was a Fortino, a male Fortino, and working was what he was supposed to do. Not like his sisters of course, no Fortino female was meant for any physical labour outside the babymaking process. Sure, Julia had recently gone back to hairdressing after her idiot husband Marcello got himself kicked off his job on the highway again, but that just served as a caution to other males that if they get shiftless and lazy like that prick did, then they'd have to suffer the humilation of their woman earning the grocery money for them. And it was his own fuckin' fault anyway, Julia wasn't much in the brains department but even SHE was better than than loser, workin' out on the highway cause he'd never bothered to even TRY to aim for something higher.

Spend his life in the service industrly or doing THAT kind of shitty manual labour for a crappy paycheque? Nah, not Ricky Fortino. He might buddy around with some guys like them, but those guys were a bunch of overly-macho meatheads, and Ricky, he was smarter than them. He was better than those stupid goddamn pigs were. Oh sure, those fags and geeks stacking the honor roll wouldn't think so, but whatever. Let them empty their pocketbooks at university so they could sit around classrooms and debate the nature of the universe and shit like that, he'd be out in the real world earning real money in the unions, which was where it was AT. His second cousin Henry just got certified as an electrician, and he was heading off to Alaska on a contract work that'd pay him nearly thirty bucks an hour plus overtime to start. TO START, man.

But that was still a ways off, and Ricky still had time to figure it all out exactly. So for now he was just strolling through Macy's on his way to work, watching a bunch of bubbleheaded girls make some terrible fashion choices, when he saw Trent Savage take off from some girl who was staring daggers at him as he left.

Trent was some shut-in loser, and he idly wondered what the girl was doing even being seen with him. Ah, Leila Langford. Had he dated her before? Nah, he'd remember, although most of those broads he'd gone out with in the past all seemed to merge together into one forgettable mass of vapid femininity after a while. But he knew her, yeah. They'd bumped into each other at various parties, the kinds where kids would come and go and you would end up getting shitfaced with a bunch of people you vaguely recognized. Parties like the one at Corrigan's would definitely end up being.

She wasn't half bad. At least she didn't dress herself like some clown reject like those scene kids and some other girls did. Nah, she had a style, and she looked pissed, and whatever, he'd start up a chat with her. He wasn't too interested in her and didn't take her as being interested either, but sometimes who you see a fellow couch-crashing partygoer looking angry at the world, you've just got to say hi.

"Hey."

She was buying another dress, maybe for Corrigan's party, and he wondered a bit why she always felt the need to put that much in her appearance. Yeah, she looked good, but he'd didn't think he'd EVER seen the girl wear pants.

"I saw you with that Savage kid, he's a dick, don't waste your time on him."

Ricky shrugged a bit.

"So I probably don't need to ask, you going to Corrigan's party?"

Leila's eyes rolled as she heard someone familiar approach, and she was not looking forward to going back to school the next day to hear all about her bust-up with Trent. Paying the woman at the counter without saying a word, she decided the best thing to do would be to simply walk out right then. Except when she turned around to talk to Trent, she found him to be nowhere in sight, replaced by the much more obnoxious figure of Ricky Fortino. Her hands wrapped themselves tightly around the handles of her Macy's bag, curled up in front of her waist as she listened to him comment on Trent's persona. According to Ricky, the guy who'd just vanished was a dick, and at that moment in time, she was inclined to agree. Just as she was about to respond, he enquired about the already-famous party, and questioned the reasoning behind asking such a thing.

"What? Ugh, just move."

Shoving past the stocky football player with her shoulder, she made her way out of the store, only stopping to check that her dress was still in the bag. It wasn't as though she hated the guy, it was more of a case that she just wasn't in the best mood. They'd met before at someone's party, though she struggled to remember whose it was exactly. In addition, she failed to recall much else of that night, and so tried her best to avoid anyone who said they'd been there. After all, she didn't mind people talking about her, so long as they weren't saying anything that may make her seem anything less than brilliant. Rummaging through the bag, she let out an irritated growl as she realised she was missing something.

Shit, I dropped the damn receipt.

This wasn't the best time for things to go walk-about without her notice, and she could feel her temper rising again. Spinning on the spot, her heels clacked against the laminated floor as she stepped with haste to reach the counter. Then she saw it. That annoying little slip of paper stuck underneath her drinking buddy's shoe. Clearing her throat loud enough for him to hear, she pointed at the receipt while staring him straight in the eye.

"You're standing on my receipt, now move."


((Re-posted to fit Leila better.))

For Ricky Fortino, well it wasn't like he wasn't used to being shot down by a woman, even in a case like this when he wasn't even hitting on her or anything. Yeah, maybe she'd taken it that way, but fuckin' Mary and Joseph the Carpenter, he was just trying to strike up a conversation with the broad! She wasn't even like remotely his type.

"What? Ugh, just move."

So instead of trying to be civilized, she just butted him out of the way with his shoulder. Whoa there, it seems that SOMEONE was in a bitchy mood today. Freaking women, they were always on the rag about something or another. She hadn't seemed that much of a witch from what he'd remembered previously so maybe she was still pissed off about that Trent cockmonger, but still man. That hurt.

"Hey, good to see you too."

She turned at his call and he shrugged slightly. But instead of acknowledging him, she instead walked up to the counter, rooting around in her bag like she was looking for something. Whatever, he had to get to work anyway, and this encounter was clearly going nowhere. Maybe she just got friendlier once she got a 40 of liquor into her or something.

Then she addressed him just as he was about to blow this scene.

"You're standing on my receipt, now move."

"Huh?"

Aw man, fuck her then. He glanced down slightly, noticing that the small piece of paper had indeed someone wound up under his sneaker. Reaching, he plucked the receipt from the ground and made a point of glancing at it.

"You overpaid, Leila."

With a smirk, he crumpled the paper in his hand and lightly tossed the ball at her forehead.

Ending conversations on the right note had never really been Ricky's area of expertise.

Leila flinched as the paper ball bounced off her face, scowling back at Ricky's irritating comment. Bending down to pick up her receipt, she stuffed it into her bag while giving him the worst look she could muster. It was hard to be taken seriously when your cheeks were as red as hers though, and she promptly turned away from the jock, storming her way past the other shoppers as she left Macy's. On her way out of the mall, she couldn't help thinking about that afternoon, and soon found herself getting ever angrier.

Who does that dick think he is?

Ricky fucking Fortino... Ugh, what a dick!

It was clear that Leila was still pissed about Trent, but Ricky hadn't exactly helped matters much, even though she'd never admit it was all her fault in the first place. As a result, she continued to brood over the trip to the mall as she took the first bus back home.

Oh well, at least the bus was on time.


((Leila Langford continued elsewhere))

It wasn't a nice look she was giving him. Ricky started down at his shoes for a second while he waited for the cursing and the bitchin' that was sure to come, but it never did. Leila just turned herself around, and she just walked out. Well... walked out, stormed out in a fucking fit of rage, whatever.

He considered calling out after her, some sort of half-apology for being a prick, but Ricky Fortino quickly thought better than that. What was he, some kind of pussy? OK yeah, he HAD been a prick, but she'd been a bitch to him first. Seriously, he was just trying to start up a freakin' conversation with the woman!

What the hell was up with them, anyway? Just mouthin' off like that. Ricky wasn't some kind of guy like his father was, he didn't think that a woman's place like NEEDED to be in the kitchen or anything. Well, not unless she wanted to be there, and fuckin Christ and the Saints, most of 'em probably did. But still, women like Leila, always bitchin' people out, strutting around like they own the world, was there any wonder he preferred hanging out with the football teams?

Ricky glanced at his watch. Perfct, and now he'd be late to work. Although he probably could make it in time if ran his ass off and covered the entire length of the mall to get to swipe his card before the clock hit zeroes.

------

It was five past the hour when he casually strolled in to start his shift. His boss threatened to write him up, and wasted five more minutes lecturing him on the value of every minute. Another lovely fuckin' day of retail.

(Ricky Fortino continued in Just Passing the Time)