Unwritten Pages

Chapter Thirty-Five: You Again

     “So do you think I should dress up a little more?” Arianna asks, twirling in front of the mirror. “Or is this okay? I mean, maybe it's not formal enough—” I cut her off.

     “Arianna,” I say, looking at her, “this party is most likely going to contain drugs, alcohol and like Desiree would say: many things that her mother wouldn't approve of. Do you think it's going to be formal?”

     Arianna pretended to be clueless. “Hm...” she began, “I'm not sure... I mean, it's still a party, right?” I know that Arianna is acting, but she's convincing and I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh.

     “Just kidding!” Arianna jokes. She sticks out her tongue. “I could have went in a potato bag and no one would have even cared. Damn, I should have done that for grad,” Arianna says regretfully, actually sounding like she had wanted to wear a potato bag.

     “Yeah, real original,” I say. “You'll stick out like a sore thumb.”

     Arianna nods. “But in this I won't. It's just...jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe I should get some scissors and make my jeans all ripped and it'll look so cool.” She looks like she's actually considering that idea.

     “And waste all the money you spent to buy those jeans,” Desiree cuts in. “You can just buy those ripped jeans. Not that I would,” Desiree adds in quickly.

     It's nearly seven right now. I can hear the beat of music pounding through the walls of my house. I swear, if I place my hand on the wall, I bet that I could have felt it vibrating.

     “You wanna go now?” I ask Desiree. She nods, looking slightly nervous. As we head out the door of my house, I fall in pace with Desiree. I tuck a strand of hair that has fallen from the pony tail she had just tied behind her ear. “You look gorgeous,” I say, all while giving her a smile. I see her blush and I know that I've flattered her.

     “That,” Desiree suddenly says, “is romance. You just don't want to admit your romantic side.”

     Before I can say anything to her, Arianna looks back at us and wrinkles her nose in a look of mock disgust. “Will you two not suck face yet? I do not need to see that. You can do that when you're all woozy and drunk.”

     The door of Chris's house opens just as Arianna finishes. It's like he's been watching us leave the house. He looks at Arianna and Desiree up and down. Instinctively, I step in front of Desiree protectively. Arianna holds her ground and stares back at him.

     As if it were some sort of test, Chris grins and steps to the side and gives us room to enter like we had passed. “Thought you weren't coming,” he said, looking at me. “But I was wrong. And you brought a hot friend.”

     Arianna looks up at Chris. “Glad you noticed,” Arianna says, sounding like an egomaniac. When she jokes like that, it's usually obvious from her tone that she's joking. But now—I can tell that she's deliberately trying to sound like an egomaniac. “But my standards are higher than that.” With those words, Arianna steps in the house. Desiree and I follow after her. Chris completely ignores us both and goes ogling after Arianna.

     Desiree looks at me, looking slightly confused. I shrug—Arianna doesn't usually act like that but she must be trying to divert Chris's attention from us.

     I survey the living room that we had entered. It's very...plain in the party-sense. There are no drunk people passed out on the couches. There's nothing on the floor that looks suspicious. In fact, it doesn't even smell like a party here. I've been to a bunch (almost every day) when I was in ninth grade. There's usually a smell of weed emitting from somewhere. Back then, it had been emitting from me.