Sister City

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Here’s where you came into the picture. Remember? A light year ago; way back in the beginning of my story. Here’s where you found me. I was staring at Tiana, Disney’s only black princess, when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Megan asked.

“Yup,” I replied, amazed that my voice could sound so casual.

“Rin?” Luka asked quietly.

“Peachy,” I said again, this time my voice wasn’t quite so calm.

“Would you like us to take you home?” Luka asked.

“Rhianna's about to go on,” Sarah complained.

“I can’t go in the limo,” I said shakily. “I'll get soda on the leather. You can’t have the limo take me home or we’ll be charged more for mileage. And, if the limo’s taking me home, nobody else will be able to get home. Everyone will be stranded.”

I couldn’t stop blathering on and on. My brain was yelling at my mouth to shut it, but my mouth was doing its own thing.

Though Trish and Oli looked sympathetic, I could tell they wanted to stay and hear Rhianna sing. Who could blame them? Megan and Luka probably wanted to ditch me too. I was going to ruin everyone's night, a feat, even for me. Bazinga!

“We’re ready to go home,” Megan said kindly. “I’m tired, and I knew I’d be too tired to stay the whole time, so Luka and I had already decided to call a cab. It’s waiting outside.”

“A cab?” I hiccupped.

“A cab. Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” I said, my dress sticking to the plastic chair as I stood up.

“Let me take her into the bathroom and wipe off her arms, Luka,” Megan insisted. “She can’t ride home like this, she’ll be miserable.”

“I’ll meet you out at the cab,” Luka agreed.

Megan guided me through the gawking people, who had mysteriously remained silent through the whole fiasco, stared unabashedly.

In the bathroom, Megan wet several paper towels, rubbed my arms and face, and chattered on about the minute details of her last OB appointment.

“I really thought he would have a folded square of paper,” I sobbed, interrupting her.

“I’m sorry?” Megan exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

I must have really scared her. She was looking at me like I had just announced I would be marrying a duck-billed platypus.

“What?” I asked, now thoroughly confused.

“What paper are you talking about? Who was supposed to have it?”

“Marcus. Like Taylor's. I just thought it would be the same for us.”

“Taylor? Taylor Swift?”

Without needing confirmation, Megan put her hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to cover her horror.

“Oh, God. Rin. You poor baby. Did you bring a paper?”

I reached into the trashcan, fished around a metric tonne of damp towels, and pulled out the crumpled and damp ruins of my life.

“It just never works out like it's supposed to, does it?” Megan clucked sympathetically.

She was going to make a fabulous mother and I couldn't even make it through a school function without wreaking havoc.