Am I Pretty Yet?

Chapter Seven

This chapter was edited 08/01/16.

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At first, a few of Parker's friends - senior boys sporting leather jackets and plaid flannel shirts - were the only guests at the house. They lingered in the living room, standing beside the high end stereo, tinkering around with CDs and whose playlist on whose phone to blast. But as soon as Richel made a couple more phone calls, a flood of people began to pull into their driveway. A majority of them crowded the hallways, or laid on the sofas with their feet propped up on the glass table. No one was using a coaster for their drinks. A Passion Pit song was blaring and a huddle of girls were singing along, their red cups lifted in the air. But what was most startling were the compliments I kept receiving from strangers walking up to me and greeting me as if we were long lost friends.

"Hey Nina!"

"Congratulations Nina!"

"Awesome party, Nina!"

I was living in a different world, one that I had never entered into before. It was a mix of MTV, cheesy reality shows and those romantic comedy movies. I leaned against the staircase, dumbfounded as to how I had gotten myself here in the first place.

After enduring about twenty minutes of Parker's reckless driving, we'd arrived to their house, which led to Richel marching me up the stairs to her bedroom. She'd returned to me my usual loose gray T-shirt, but begged me to at least wear a leather black skirt and studded biker boots with it.

"You'll look hot, trust me," she'd insisted while racking through her closet.

"I just don't get why I have to change," I'd muttered. "Or why we have to have this party..."

"Because, Nina, even though Parker and I don't get along, he's right about celebrating. This day deserves to be remembered. Imagine: by tomorrow, you're going to be a beauty pageant contestant."

"How do you know that? There were sixty seven girls that auditioned. Only twenty will be accepted. Those girls have been pretty their whole lives."

"And you haven't?" she'd shot back, placing her hands on her hips. "Believe that if you want. But if you haven't noticed, you're pretty now."

"Am I?" I'd asked, falling back onto her pillow. I'd held the black leather skirt in my hands, noting how short the length was. "Am I pretty yet?"

"I would think so since Harrison is obviously slowly becoming into you."

"He's still with Leslie, also known as your cousin, in case you've forgotten and bonked your head underneath a coconut tree."

She wrinkled her nose at me in distaste. "FYI, I haven't forgotten. And BTW, I know how a boy acts when he starts liking a girl. Hello? I live with one. Just watch." She'd shrugged her shoulders. "Sooner or later, he'll be breaking up with Leslie."

"That's horrible, don't say that," I'd snapped, irritated.

And now, in a skirt that wasn't mine wearing shoes that felt odd on my feet surrounded by this sea of people who were all looking at me and talking to me, I felt out of place. Yet strangely... I felt alive.

Parker stood by a cooler stocked with a few bottles of Corona beneath Diet Coke cans, which I assumed had just been placed there for show. Richel was nowhere to be found; last time I had seen her, she'd been talking to one of Parker's friends, batting her eyelashes. I swirled the Diet Coke around in the red cup my fingers were gripping onto, watching the bubbles fizz. A different song began blaring from the stereo in the living room, and girls were grinding on boys. The bathroom door had been locked for about an hour now, which was never a good sign. I was surprised the cops hadn't shown up yet to file a noise complaint. I wished Faith was here, but she was being force fed by her perky PTA mother at a family dinner downtown. Harrison was probably somewhere on a date with Leslie, having the time of his life. I was far from his mind; I didn't believe a word Richel said. I squeezed my eyes shut, frowning.