Hidden Battles
Written for a writing prompt that said...
The hidden battles
The poor girl plunged her hand into her pocket, wrapping her shaky fingers around the $20 bill. She fingered its grimy flat surfaces, petting inside each fold and crease. She desperately dug through her trove of regular excuses, panicked, grasping for one she hadn't already used. "I left my wallet at home," she toyed with, and, "I don't get my allowance til Thursday." But neither would work believably, not again.
The poor girl stared into the eyes of her friends, praying for a distraction that would pull focus from the impending purchase. A cell phone ring. Or the sound of a mannequin toppling over. Or a fire. But nothing happened. Instead, the poor girl remained awkwardly stuck inside the moment, heartbroken and torn apart over what to do.
"I can't afford it." Would they still like her if she said it? Now she'll never be forced to find out.
The poor girl slid her mother's birthday across the counter, and into the hands of the cashier.