seventeen

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17 || cleanup on aisle seven

17 || cleanup on aisle seven

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"Gold star for you. You attended a high school party."

Allen Residence, Queens, October 2016-

Alison pulled up the party site, stalling the car. She turned back around at Jess, Drew, and Tara, who were splitting the backseat of her car.

"Are you guys sure about this? Going to this party. I mean, Parker will be there, and..." Alison trailed off. "I mean, I dunno about this. With what happened last time-"

"Ali." Jess placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "You'll be fine. Besides, the last time that happened, you met me." She smiled quietly. "So I think that nothing bad will come from going to this party."

"Wow." Alison laughed, facing forward, trying to find a parking spot. "You're a real good pep talker Jess." She tapped the wheel impatiently, seeing no spots show up. She sighed

"Yeah," Jess turned her head slightly, in a way that only she could. "I have that effect on people sometimes."

Alison saw some people already walking in, and she parked the car. "You guys go in, ok? I'll catch up in a second."

Drew gave her a skeptical look. "Alright then," she popped the door open, and walked out into the street. "We will see you in there ."

Ali nodded at the girls, turning her head back to the road. She pulled her car out of the awkward spot where she had dropped the girls off, and scanned the neighborhood for a spot.

Glancing at the clock, Alison could see that they were 5 minutes late. Normally this wasn't something that happened, but the girls were having fun getting "makeovers."

After 10 minutes of searching, Alison eventually found a spot nestled in the middle of the neighborhood. Carefully pulling into the spot, Ali parked the car.

Sighing, Alison got out of the car, and shut the door softly. The beep of the car being locked sounded, and Alison made her way to the Allen house.

The house was a modern style, kind of like the block style modern that was popular. It was nestled in the middle of a pretty suburban neighborhood, with original styles from the 1900's, so it stuck out like a sore thumb.

Alison shivered, remembering the warm April night when she had approached the Flash kid's house, in a neighborhood quite the opposite of this one.

Her hands shaking, Alison carefully trudged up the driveway. Her knuckles were turning white from clutching the backpack slung over her shoulder.

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