It All Started In A McDonald's...

we crashed the party alright

"So are you," he called after me as a goodbye, as I closed the door. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Your dad is so cool," MJ said as we left. I couldn't help but agree. Typical dads would say to be back by eight, or insist to come along, but no, mine was cool. I didn't deserve him.

*

MJ and I turned up at Liz's address at about half eight, and it would be fair to say we got a few stares when the two weirdo-possibly-psycho kids turned up. No one spoke to us, but it wasn't like we weren't used to that. Everyone at school sorta left us alone (there was a rumour going around that we were secretly spies of some kind of organisation which was planning to undermine the government, which neither of us had confirmed or denied because the drama was entertaining) unless I was causing a scene, which I hadn't done since April Fools last week, and people were already starting to forget about our glitter bombs and stuff. The main talk was on the Mr Evans situation, who miraculously hadn't been seen since that one lesson. Though people were still talking about our apple heist.

That had been good.

"Hm, I don't see anyone familiar," I said as we walked through the door. I immediately managed to bump into someone. "Hey," I said, automatically, since I wasn't the type to hand out apologies.

She was. "Sorry, sorry" the girl said, then we made eye contact and I realised it was Liz. "Oh, hey," she smiled, recognising me. "Jamie, right?" I nodded, and she looked at MJ. "Um... Mishal?"

"Michelle, actually, don't wear it out."

"Nice to see you both here," she grinned, and I swear she never stopped grinning. I must look so miserable compared to her. "We've only just sorta set up, so help yourself to snacks, drinks, and stuff, the DJ's about to start I think. Oh, and, um, I don't suppose you know if Peter's coming, do you?"

I raised an eyebrow interestedly. Yeah, she definitely liked him too. How could I tell so quickly, you ask? Well, I'd like to think Loki's crazy inference abilities were starting to rub off me, but to be honest, it was just obvious. "I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," she said, innocently. "OK. Well. Enjoy, guys."

I could almost see the smiley emoji at the end of that sentence as she walked away. "Oh dear. You could have competition, MJ."

"I don't like Peter, for the thousandth time," MJ said, half-heartedly trying to convince me. It didn't work. "She's not my competition. Anyway, c'mon, I want toast."

She walked off before I could register what she'd said. Then I double-taked. Then ran off after her towards the buffet table, saying, "Wait, did you just say toast?"

"Yup," MJ said, nodding. Then I realised, yes, in fact, there was a toaster on the buffet table. One of those super posh ones. The ones that only come in these posh houses. It probably had voice recognition and lasers and all that fancy shit that posh people seemed to have. "I'm eating toast. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope," I said, honestly, looking over the drinks and stuff. "You eat toast if you want to eat toast."

"I will. And I'll have it with lots of jam on."

"You do that."

I filled up a paper cup with some punch and took a gulp, scanning the room. I didn't recognise many people, only the occasional so and so. Then I realised my throat felt like it was on fire as my punch travelled down it, so I swallowed then, alarmed, coughed, massaging where my throat was. That was weird.

Punch didn't normally do that, did it?

MJ looked over at me, concerned over why I was coughing my guts up, probably. "You alright?"