Claire Jones

Well Spent: Chapter 4

The day of the party...

"Are you ready yet?" I yell.

"Almost done," she yells back from the bathroom. I sit on Lyssa's bed and glance around her room. The whites of the furniture and the window frames pair well with the the light pink on the walls, reminiscent of cotton candy and strawberry ice-cream.

After a minute, she steps out in an off-the-shoulder grey dress that reaches past her knees. The fruity-floral scent of lychees and jasmine wafts out of the bathroom. "How's this one?"

"Hmm... it looks quite dull." I go to her wardrobe hoping to find something else, something interesting. "How about these two?" I pull out a loose blue satin top and a black pair of jeans. "You can wear this over your jeans and have your swimsuit underneath," I suggest.

"Do you think he'll like it?" she asks, bringing James into the picture. I rumble through her wardrobe again and pull out a red cloak with some intricate embroidery lacing the bottom edges.

"This would go really well with your swimsuit!" She peels off the grey dress and puts on the red cloak. She looks amazing. The orange swimsuit shows off her figure and blends naturally into her milk coffee skin while the cloak gives her a touch of fiery class. "Do you like it?" I ask.

She checks herself in the mirror. "Like it? I love it!" she exclaims. "Oh Claire, you've got such a fine taste in clothes."

"Oh, you're just as fine. After all, these are your clothes," I say, returning the compliment. "Would you tell me all about it when you get back?"

"I sure will." She smiles. She puts a pair of shorts, a towel, and a few other essentials into her bag as I tidy up her room. Right before leaving, she spritzes a little more of that perfume on her. With her smelling this good, I doubt James would be able to resist being close to her.

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When I got home, a small pile of presents await Grampa at the table. Dad's out. I suppose he went to collect the cake.

"It's okay, Mrs. Jones. I can handle it." Calvin's voice comes from the kitchen, surprising my ears. I jolt up and bring myself in there. Calvin gets up from his chair, holding a packet of balloons and a hand pump. "Hey Claire," he greets.

"Hey Cal," I say, all the more surprised to see him in my house.

My voice captures Mum's attention. She turns away from the pot of chicken stew she was hovering over and says to me, "Go get ready, Claire. Grampa's going to be here any minute."

Calvin and I walk into the living room. "Calvin, what're you doing here?" I ask.

"Helping out my friend," he says, holding up the packet of balloons and the hand pump with a grin. We take a seat on the couch in the living room. Calvin pours the rubbery contents of the packet onto the coffee table.

"Thanks," I say. I slump my body onto the couch, imagining all the fun Lyssa and everyone's having without me; the possibility of hanging out with Christopher replaced with a boring day with Grampa. Plus, Mum thinks it's fun. That makes it worse.

"You really want to go, don't you?" he asks, as if he'd just read my mind.

"She did promise not to go without me," I mutter. "It's okay. I'll be fine," I say, shrugging off the sinking feeling in my gut.

"Look, I understand how you feel. My best friend was going to go without me," he says. My ears prick up.

"Why can't you go too?" I ask.