The Dark & The Beautiful

03

"Uh, speak for yourself. I have an essay to do," I informed him. "and besides, I don't like going places where I'm clearly not wanted." I forced a sly smile at Tristian who mirrored with a fake one of his own.

"At least you know." He replied smartly.

"Aw c'mon Lo. It's a party at this exclusive lounge called Pickled Lemon . . ." Semaj explains to me, he talks with his hands a lot, fingers mirroring his words. "it's up in Chelsea which isn't that far from us and I'm pretty sure there's only gonna be people from school there so none of the locals will bother you if you're worried about that kind of thing because I get some of these New Yorkers are crazy and won't hesitate to drop someone on their head —"

Tristian steps forward causing his broad shoulders to clash against us, his stride picking up as he inside the café. "Who said you two were invited?" he makes a face as he walks into the café, and I follow behind him into the place shortly after.

The place smells like coffee and I hate coffee. The sickly smell consumes me like cologne and I crinkle my nose and endure because I know Semaj and Tristian and every other student at school love this place. I guess because of the aesthetic, it's not vintage but everything is brown and green. Several plants scattered around the place make it look fresh and youthful and the brick-like wall adds more texture to the place. It's not a strange sight to see someone in here with a ring light and flashing cameras. It's also always abnormally hot in here which is such a drastic difference from the cool autumn weather outside.

"So you claim to not like us yet you walk to school with us every morning," Semaj says to furrowed brow Tristian, the three of us taking off our jackets and placing them on the coat rack. I was ecstatic to take off this wool brown trench coat.

I was born and raised in Arizona. I'm not used to the cold and the minute I feel a cold breeze I'm throwing on every piece of winter gear I have. This is why today's ensemble consisted of a cream sweater and some brown UGGs, paired with my brown trench and a fuzzy scarf I've had for years but never had any real reason to wear. Semaj repeated "It's not that damn cold," like five times when we were getting ready to leave the apartment this morning but I don't care. The outfits look nice and I like to look nice. It makes me feel like I'm actually doing something right when I'm in class.

"If I invite you two will you shut the hell up?" Tristan finally snaps, muscled hand ready to wrap around Semaj's slim neck.

He made a childish face in reply. "Maybe," he mumbled.

Tristian exhaled a low sigh as we got into line behind the register. "Fine, you two are invited. Happy?"

"I didn't want to go in the first place," I tell him, stuffing my hands into my pockets as I look ahead at the menus seeing the specials for today. Semaj nudges me, laughing to himself lowly. "What he means to say is that he's excited and we're gonna get tore the fuck up!"

Tristian's eyes roll to the ceiling. "Oh God . . ."

The two bicker some more as I try to decide on what to get even though I know I'm just gonna go with what u also get when I come here. A lemon refresher with light ice which I learned a few weeks ago is just a fancy way to say lemonade and a donut. I hate coffee but this place has the best donuts. I'd sell my left kidney for one.

"Look Tristian, there's your father-in-law," Semaj randomly blurts and I follow his eyes to them towards the flat screen hanging on the wall of the rhetorical café showcasing the morning news. There's Mayor Chambers with a bunch of microphones and cameras in his face, the words "4th homicide this week" in bold red letters at the bottom over and over. "I don't even know why he does these morning interviews. He says the same thing every time. He's gonna say they're gonna find whoever did this but they never do, and then it's a repeat until the next murder or shoot out a couple days from now." Semaj sighs as he rocks back and forth on his tennis shoes.