She's Just A Skater Girl

'I knew I shouldn't have given you that drink.'

Five minutes later, I strode out of my bedroom looking like a younger replica of Miley Cyrus (I know what you’re thinking – and not that naked) – and to be honest, I felt good. Maybe it wasn’t the real me, per se – but it was definitely going to get me noticed. Of course, there was no reason why a lacy crop top, hot pink shorts and black (wobbly) high heels wouldn’t get anyone noticed.

Although, I had no idea how I was going to get near the door (to see when Trent left) in this outfit. Mom would probably have a fit. Which I guess, in a way, would stop her from stopping leaving – but it would probably be going a bit too far.

Aha! I have a plan. Now, all I have to do is wait for Trent to leave, which I can tell by when he slams the door shut (never had any manners, that one); then, I’ll wait a few seconds while he gets down the road a bit (but not too far so that I can’t spot and follow him) before quickly escaping out of the door. But first, I needed something to cover up with, if I was going to spy on the front door.

Quickly, I grabbed my stripy dressing gown from the bannister. I was back just in time to catch Trent leaving.

"Hey Mom, I'm leaving now! I'll be back before dawn!" I heard Trent call out as he made his way, presumably, to the door. As if Mom would agree with that!

 "Trent Edward Wil-" Mom started to shout, obviously trying to correct his statement by several hours, but before she could finish, Trent had already slammed the door shut behind him. Time to get this plan into action. I waited until Mom's voice had faded out before hurrying down the stairs as fast as I could before standing cautiously by the door.

Trent, being the moron that he usually was, had left the key in door, which meant it would be quite easy for me to get out. I glanced around furtively for Mom or Dad (although Dad would probably help e escape, I don’t think he’d be too happy about my outfit). Once I was sure I wasn’t going to get caught, I stepped out in the cold London air, immediately spotting Trent’s broad figure strolling down the road.

Now, it’s time for a bit of following. Unfortunately, I had this feeling that it wasn’t going to go like it did in the movies (which happened to be the same with climbing out of my bedroom window as well).

He hadn’t seen me (yet) luckily, but it was hard trying to keep to shadows (seeing as there were barely any, and the ones that were there simply reflected onto the clipped green front gardens), and dashing behind some random bush seemed unlikely to work.

So now, I was just a couple of feet away from Trent, trying to act like I had no problem with the person in front of me turning around. I know it probably would’ve been best to walk on the other side of the street to prevent Trent turning around and coming face to face with me, but I was somehow afraid that one path would curve off in one direction and the other one would carry on going straight, or vice versa.

Besides, even if he did turn around, I doubt he’d recognise me in this (non-existent) lighting – and in these ‘clothes.’ By this point, I was sincerely hoping that the destination would magically appear at the next house, seeing as these high heels were killing me – and I hadn’t even arrived at the party yet. Note to self: add high heels, stilettos and related footwear onto no-go list.

A few minutes later, Trent finally starting walking into the front garden of a house with a large ‘72’ sign on it. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then mentally shushed myself. Soon, Trent emerged from behind the tall holly bush, and knocked on the front door. It was obvious that the party wasn’t quite in full swing yet. I wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘party animal,’ but even I knew that if it had been in full swing, no-one would’ve bothered to even knock on the door, because a party was a party.