The Girl Who Wore Jordans

Chapter Thirteen

       “You should have some people over,” Tara suggested.

       “Yeah,” Lauren agreed, “like…a small get together.”

       “You guys are kidding, right? I’ve seen movies, I’ve watched TV, and I’ve lived life- if you wanted to know if I could throw a party, you could’ve just asked,” I said, studying their faces.

       Lauren looked over to Tara, and they silently had a conversation with the use of only hand motions and facial expressions. “You should throw a party, Liz,” Lauren finally said.

       “Okay, sounds fun,” I said, faking confidence.

       “Wait, what?” Alice snapped, looking up from her phone. “You’re actually going along with the idea?”

       “Yeah, why not?” I asked.

       “Because it’s a terrible idea!” she explained. “These two are pretty much asking to trash your house!”

       “I’m willing to take full responsibility for anything happens, and it sounds fun,” I shrugged.

       “Wow, Liz,” Alice said, “I never pegged you for the partying type.” Neither did I…

       “There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me,” I said extraordinarily truthfully. Hell, they barely knew me.

       “So, a party it is. I’ll send the word out,” Tara said, taking out her phone and beginning to type away.

       “Oh my god, Liz, this is going to be so much fun!” Lauren happily exclaimed, clapping her hands. A bell echoed off the walls of the room, signifying our time was coming to an end.

       “See you guys later!” Tara said, as she slung her purse over a shoulder, and exited the room with Lauren and others.

       “You have no idea what you just did, do you?” Alice asked, linking arms with me as she began to pull me out of the room.

       “Not a clue.” She laughed, as we began our venture to a class I had begun to hate: math.

       When we arrived in the room, Alice skillfully snagged two desks towards the back of the class. She dropped her purse on the desk dramatically, and bent down to take out a binder and a few pencils. Gingerly, she placed the pencils neatly at the top of her desk, and the binder a few inches below.

       I slumped down in the seat next to her, and pulled out my own materials from my backpack. Looking over to Alice’s methodical layout, I was reminded of how unorganized I truly was. Papers were seeping out of my binder, overflowing to the edges, and it resembled that of the debris from a small hurricane.

       “Liz!” someone cheerily greeted, as I stared down in confusion at my muddled binder.

       I slowly lifted my face, and smiled as I saw Eric standing before me. “Hi,” I addressed him.

       “How are you?” he nonchalantly asked, sitting down at the desk next to mine.

       “Good, you?” I returned.

       “Fine,” he said simply. “I hear you’re throwing a party tonight.”

       “It appears that way.” I didn’t question how he obtained the information, assuming that Tara had probably texted everyone on her contact list or posted it as her status on Facebook. Tara seemed like the type of girl that knew a lot of people.

       “It also appears as though I’m invited.”

       “That you are,” I nodded, gazing into his eyes. He had pretty eyes; I wasn’t one to deny it. Emerald green with specks of hazel in them. They were filled with calmness and compassion. As creepy as it was, I think I had heard the girls talking about Eric’s eyes once at lunch (Something about them being captivating and all that bull).