𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅.

[005] : EVIL HEARTED YOU!

After sliding the shoes on, Aurora grabs her faux crocodile skin handbag, jangling her car keys in her other hand, "Ready to go?"

"Yep." Ivy confirms, following Aurora as they climb down the carpeted stairs.

     "Mom! I'm leaving now, I'll be back around 3." Aurora yells into the living room, her mother shouting something incoherent back to show she's asleep and doesn't really care.

     Sometimes Ivy could wish upon a shooting star for a mother like Aurora's. Ms. Ainsley was unbelievably kind, and worked late nights at the hospital as a diligent nurse—She wakes up extremely early and returns home extremely late, with a birdnest hair, and heavy eye-bags, it's a surprise she's home at this time. Inexplicably, she still didn't look a day over thirty, with bright youthful eyes and a smile that could irradiate a dimmed room, you could easily tell she's a warm-hearted woman. Ivy admired her, she wishes she could say the same about her own mother. Shit happens.

     Her long, pale fingers fixated on the joystick, the positioning at gear 3, Aurora liked to drive fast, as Ivy gripped the car-handle with her dearest fucking life. "Slow down, damn."

     "We are very fucking late." She paused, " I don't want to get there when everyone else is drunk and I'm sober. God, imagine getting there and there's like orange juice left. The fuck am I meant to do with that?"

          Can't relate, Ivy thinks to herself. She strictly doesn't drink alcohol because the taste is genuinely disgusting to her, but she doesn't absolutely relish in judging people who enjoy indulging in booze. Last time, she took an unwarranted sip of her mother's champagne and virtually coughed up her tiny lungs at age thirteen. Her mother always taught her to be careful with drinking, because it's easy to be taken advantage of when you're not in the right state of mind. True words by a false woman.

       The music was so fucking loud, each bassdrop fizzled into the tips of Ivy's fingers, she can't even imagine how annoyed the neighbours must feel. As Aurora pulled into the driveway, neon lights flashed continuously through the lustreless windows, the lights completely out. Empty cans of beer littered on the lawn, chanting echoing through the house, it seemed fun.

     Anthony's large house was almost two blocks away from Ivy's, the rich side of town. A repellent depiction of her mother hearing of a teen party close by and hunting out her daughter painted in Ivy's head. Of course, it would never actually happen in a million years but paranoia is a powerful feeling. Plus, her mother is one crazy son of a bitch. Never say never.

     "Um-Are you okay?"

        Ivy snapped her head towards her best friend, the inattentive haze over her eyeballs dissipating into a thin veil of torment. "Sorry, I was a little distracted."

      "A little? You look like you've seen Michael Jackson in the fucking flesh." Aurora put her milky washed hand over Ivy's deeply toned arm in comfort. "If you're nervous about the party, I can take you home, it's not a problem."

    God, Aurora is so clueless. Ivy's been to parties before, well not many, but enough to know not to feel any sense of anxiety. She enjoyed them for the most part. But for peace of mind, she went along with it, reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt loudly.

    "Don't worry. I'm fine." Ivy sighed.

    "No you're not. If it's about the alcohol then I could tell Anthony you don't drink, he'll understand."