And Then There Were Five

EIGHT: McKenna

McKenna Macintosh
June 8, 2018

McKenna got ready in the bathroom, carefully applying mascara to her eyelashes. She didn't wear makeup often. In fact, she hated it. But it was Friday night and she was going out (for once) and she knew that she needed to doll herself up a bit. Put some kind of effort into looking nice. She was going to Carter's place, after all.

He was having a party tonight. Or a large get-together. That's what he called it – a get-together. But McKenna knew what the night would consist of: drinking, loud music, and partying. He said to come anytime between 8:45 p.m. and 9:00, so she arrived shortly after nine; fashionably late.

As she stood outside the door and waited to be let in, McKenna realized that she was nervous. She most definitely had a slight form of social anxiety. Sure, if you put her in a social situation where she was comfortable, she could talk for hours about things that she was passionate about. She was pretty good with making genuine conversations and conversing with strangers. Yet still, every time she approached a new social situation, she was plagued with this immediate sense of anxiety. Sometimes her hands would shake. Her brain would race with thoughts, leaving her feeling anxious and jittery. She hated it. But she also knew that after adjusting and getting comfortable, she would be fine. In fact, she would flourish. She always did. People took such a strong liking to McKenna. That's why it was so peculiar to her that she didn't have many friends.

"You made it," Carter beamed as he opened the door for her.
"Hi," she smiled nervously, then hesitated a moment before stepping into the house. She peered over his shoulder and saw the crowd of people gathered in the kitchen.
"You find it okay?" he asked.
"Oh yes, just plugged it into the GPS."
"Good," he laughed. "Please, come in. I'll introduce you to everyone."
She followed behind him as they walked together towards the kitchen. Carter was a popular guy, she could tell this from the moment she met him. He could strike up a conversation with anyone, effortlessly, and seemed to hold himself in high regards. He had mentioned to her that he had three housemates, and that the four of them were all good friends from high-school. Now she'd get to meet them, perhaps see what else there was to know about Carter Ford. It was only her third time meeting with him, but they had been talking a fair amount this past week – texting and phone calls. She felt as though she already knew him so well.
McKenna quickly surveyed the room, weighing out her opponents, as she liked to think of them. But she quickly tried to eradicate such thoughts. These people were not enemies. They were potential friends. She needed to take her mother's advice and be more open-minded.
They approached a crowd of people and Carter began talking to one of the girls. "Rylie, this is my friend, McKenna," Carter said. "Make her feel at-home, alright?"
"Hi," Rylie turned to McKenna and stuck out her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," McKenna said, shaking the girl's hand. She was pretty, Rylie. 5'4, light brown hair with blonde highlights.
"This is Christian and Aidan," Carter said to McKenna, gesturing to two good-looking guys standing next to Rylie. "They live here as well. Along with Jack, but I'm not sure where he is right now."
"Hi," they both said to McKenna, reaching out to shake her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"What can I get you to drink?" Carter asked, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her towards the kitchen counter.
"Oh, I'm alright. I drove."
"No fun," he remarked. "I can make you a mocktail. What do you fancy?"
"Uh, anything would be fine. I'm pretty easy-going."
"You gotta be more specific. What do you like?"
She thought about this for a moment. "Anything fruity."
"Fruity? Coming right up," he turned around and opened the fridge. McKenna leaned against the counter and looked around the room. There were quite a few people here – at least fifteen in the small kitchen alone.
He returned moments later, appearing at her side and holding out a glass filled with dark pink liquid. "It's a strawberry daiquiri," he said to her. "Virgin, of course."
"Thank you," she smiled and took a sip.
"Are you okay on your own?" he asked. "I'm going to go find Jack, his phone is about to die and it's our main source of music."
McKenna froze at his words. She had just arrived. And she didn't even know anybody here. How was she going to survive this night without Carter to cling to? He was her safe haven, the only person she knew, and even then, she barely knew him at all.
"Sure," she managed to say, forcing a small smile. "Yes, go, I'll be fine."
"Awesome. I'll see you in a bit."

Carter turned around and disappeared through the crowd of people. McKenna stood there, unsure of what to do with herself. She tried to peer through the people and spot that girl – Rylie – or perhaps one of the other guys who lived here. Carter hadn't introduced her to anyone else, and quite frankly, all she wanted was a familiar face. Someone to talk to.

She sauntered over towards the counter, stood there awkwardly leaning her hip against it as she sipped from her glass, trying to remain invisible. This proved quite successful as everyone else was too busy drinking and conversing with each other to notice her. However, a few minutes of solitude was all she was allotted.

"Do you have a bottle opener?" someone asked her. She turned slightly to get a better look at him. Dark brown hair, ocean blue eyes. A face that could have been sculpted by the God's themselves.
"I don't," she told him. "I'm sorry."
He smiled. "That's alright, I'm sure I'll find one somewhere."
"Kitchen drawer, maybe?"
"Let's check," he walked around to the other side of the counter and began opening drawers. McKenna remained where she was, watching as he searched.
"Found one," he held one up and grinned at her, then opened his beer. He tossed it back in the drawer, closed it, and leaned across the counter, facing her, as he took a sip.
"Want one?" he asked.
"Oh, no thank you. I have this," she held up her glass.
"What is it?"
"A strawberry daiquiri. Virgin."
"You're not drinking?"
"I drove."
"Ah," he nodded. "Understandable." It was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I haven't seen you around before. You're new." Not a question – an observation.
"I guess you could say that. I'm McKenna."
"And how did you find yourself here this evening, McKenna?"
"Carter invited me."
"Ah, so you're one of Carter's,"
"What?"
He laughed. "Nothing, it's a joke. So, you're friends with Carter. How do you know each other?"
"We met recently, actually. Just last week."
"What do you think so far?"
"Of the party? Or of Carter?"
"Both."
"Party is fun. Carter is nice."
He smirked, gave a slight eye-roll/headshake, and took another sip from his drink.
"What?" she smiled at this.
"Of all the words used to describe Carter Ford, nice is a rarity."
"But he is nice."
"Among many other things."
McKenna stared at him, this stranger whom she didn't even know, and she felt the sudden urge to talk with him. Bond with him in some way.
"And who exactly might you be?" she said to him.
"Me?" he said, looking at her with those piercing blue eyes. "I'm Blake."