Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
IN THE COMING months, I'll often think back to the two weeks between the afternoon Izzie and I spend at Promise Park and the night things finally come together.
I'll think of how ironic it is, the way I was just starting to forget about her when, all of a sudden, there she is in front of me again, standing outside underneath the night sky with a knowing smile.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Because the chain of events that gets Izzie and me together that night goes back, way back, so much so that it almost seems like some mischievous cosmic force must have been tugging at strings all along.
It began at Penelope Bancroft's party back in September and started with Brian Patterson, captain of the Clayton Prep football team, getting way too drunk and deciding it would be fucking hilarious to replace all of the water in Penelope's parents' fish tank with beer.
Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft weren't too thrilled when they came home and find a) their fish tank full of beer, and b) all of their fish dead.
They grounded Penelope for the rest of the calendar year, which was devastating for her, because now she can't leave her house after 6:00 p.m., and also devastating for the rest of Clayton, because now the annual Halloween party is off and everyone has to find somewhere else to blow off their repressed sexual frustration.
That is, until Sharice-the soft-hearted, caring angel that she is-begs and pleads until her parents finally cave and agree to let her have the party at her house. Evan has finally submitted his Hudson application, which means he has no excuse for not going, which means that I have no excuse for not going. And that's how I end up at Sharice's house on the night of October 28, wearing black head-to-toe and a ski mask.
Sharice wrinkles her nose when she opens the door. "What are you? A robber?"
"I was going for ninja." My voice is muffled by the mask. "But close enough."
She is dressed in knee-high yellow socks and an extra large red t-shirt with 'pooh' written across the front.
"Did you bring it?"
I pull out the costume bear ears she requested and she breaks into a grin. "Thank you," she beams putting them on, completing the costume look.
"You're welcome Pooh Bear."
Behind her, the party has already started. Jude and his friends are standing around with beers, the latest pop hit is blasting from the speakers, and a few girls mill around in heels that I could never walk in.
I note the costumes as I walk to the kitchen to get myself a drink: Leila, in a black leotard and Catwoman mask; Victoria Lee, a pirate in a tube top and very little else; Chrissy, a cowgirl in plaid and denim. And then the boys: Jesse, a shirtless firefighter; Elias, a shirtless Aladdin; Jude, a shirtless Indiana Jones. And, of course, Nate and Jennie, looking like they belong on a Hollywood movie set instead of a high school house party, as Marilyn Monroe and James Dean.
