Vindy saw Alice headed towards the west wing. Their eyes met, and Alice rolled hers with a small grin. “So, what was it about?” he asked. She side-eyed him. “Were you asleep? Bruh,” she said, catching a whiff, “were you smoking?” Vindy popped another mint, ducked out his lips, and shook his head vigorously. Candice, of course, suddenly appeared. “Cheezus Vindy, you stink!” and with that remark, Vindy wondered if it was better to burn his school uniform. But wait, he had a better idea, and ran to the toilet to apply more spray-on deodorant. Sadly, the school bully was there waiting in line to take a shit and therefore had some time to kill, and some bruises to hand out.
Candice had listened to the assembly speech and was a little fired up. “So, what do you want to be?” She tried to picture Alice looking like an adult, a bit taller, a bit thinner, in a business suit, but with stilettos and long blonde hair, like how they looked in the movies. “You could easily be a model, or a doctor, or a secret agent’s wife, or a lawyer, I can soooooo see it, you would get rich and then marry a rich guy and settle down to be a housemother with four kids and just chill at home with a view over the beach, inviting me over for cocktails, right?”
Candice thought her ideas were pretty good while out of reach for herself personally, and she kept Alice firmly in her mind and everything else to the side, and the image of Alice with four children shone brightly in the center of her mind, and the lady Saint Alice shone with heavenly light, and reached out to bless wretched little Candice, and she looked up with a little tear in her eye, as she touched the side of her own bruised cheek, remembered that she had powdered over it, and let her hand drop.
Meanwhile, Alice was not about to confess that she had not listened to the speech, or her whimsical yet conservative friend’s suggestions, rather was still deep in thought about her possible career choices: Internet celebrity, model, actor, rapper, streamer, or all of the above.