Better than Friends

Chapter 13: Ready as I'll ever be

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"Friendships cause heartbreaks too."

- Wolftyla

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In many a good film, an arrival scene is the most important act of a movie. It displays courage, drama, and a good catwalk to open up the next scenario that'll happen: the climax. In 'Barbie A Fashion Fairytale' our protagonist the ever pink Barbie wowed the crowd with a strike and pose, while in Shrek 2 the kingdom of Far Far Away was put to shock when not one but two ogres stepped out of the carriage.

Helena's party was not your average frat boy party, no, it was Fuller-Mulligan party that meant class and elegance. Unlike the one that I hauled a drunken Dawson out of, this one was high-end and redtie. Of course, it still meant that college students were going to end up wrecking the place but that aspect will be seen later on in the night.

On another note, the whole ride to the party was suffocating. Dawson had picked me up from my place (which didn't take long since he lived right across the street) and from the moment I opened the car door to the drive up to the Fuller-Mulligan home, not a peep came from his mouth. I had greeted him hello when I entered the car but was met with silence.

My going assumption was that he didn't hear me cause the first thing I noticed when I saw him was that he wouldn't even look at me. He had one hand on the stirring wheel, the other one propped against the window with the side of his head resting on his fist, and eyes straight forward. Not one glance was spared.

I bit my lip as Dawson parked the car. We sat in silence for a good few minutes and at some point I realized if no one decided to speak then we wouldn't get out of the car.

So, mustering up my courage, I decided to break the ice.

"Is everything alright?"

Dawson finally turned to look at me, his facial features not giving away his thoughts. Pursing his lips, he replied, "I'm just lost in thought."

I already knew what he was thinking of. "Should I go through with this?"

"You can still back out," I told him, clenching my velvet dress in my hands as I leaned towards him in a panic. "We can think of something else! There are so many other things we can do—yes this is our best option in getting her attention-but there's a lo-"

"Atty."

I pouted. "Sorry."

Dawson's lips quirked up at my apology and I smiled at him awkwardly. "It's fine, I'm just trying to figure out if what we're doing really is the best thing to do."

"It'll get her attention the quickest," I assured him, resting a hand on his knee without thinking. "Trust me."

But Dawson wasn't paying attention to my words any longer. His eyes were stuck on my hand that rested firmly on his knee.

"Daws?"

"Let's go in."

The party already had a good number of attendees, all dressed in their best attire. I looked down at my own, a red velvet, bodycon dress with duct straps. It hugged my figure nicely and pronounced all the assets I wanted it to pronounce. When I was younger I was obsessed with watching the sitcom 'The Nanny' and envied Fran's perfectly sized chest. I remember doing everything from drinking soy milk to exercising till my chest was the size I wanted it to be. I blushed as I remembered how I begged my mom to buy me a training bra at the age of nine.

As I thought about the old days, train of thought blissfully unaware, I felt someone brush up from behind me. I tensed as I felt lips press against my ear and as hot breath hit my lobes.