Exotic

~ let the right ones in ~

Dentist's Office picked up after two rings. Jamie was never more than arm's length from his phone.

"You're alive," he sounded genuinely relieved. I realised that in the year I'd known him, I'd never gone as long as two weeks without at least making an appearance at Crescendo. When I thought about it that way, it wasn't hard to see how I'd fallen so hard from grace with my academics.

I was sitting with my bare feet in the grass in a park block about fifteen minutes from school. My sneakers were lying a few feet away, tossed off in hast so I could dig my toes into the dirt and centre myself. My thighs itched from the tickle of the buffalo grass. I was going to regret lying back in it, but in the moment, I couldn't make myself care about low-key allergic reactions. The classes I was missing, the haughty eyes of mothers on me, the minor sting of the malformed rash in the crease of my knees; none of it troubled me.

"Sorry, Jame. My life is hectic right now," I confessed. "But I'm free tonight?"

"Good, because Zsa's flat out doing sets by himself," he sounded somewhat distracted, probably rushing to his computer to mock-up a poster for that night. "Hasn't slept in a week, I swear."

"I'm sorry about going off-grid."

"Nah, I don't think it has to do with you. I can hardly get him to leave at the end of the night," he groaned. "I told him I have the cash to spare if he needs a loan, but it doesn't seem to be about making rent. Have you spoken to him lately?"

I pulled my shirt over my mouth, chewing nervously on the collar, "Yeah."

"Is he doing alright?"

I didn't know. I hadn't checked in on him since he'd called me about Peter. He'd been commenting on my posts, so I had been content in the knowledge he didn't hate me, but I hadn't considered how he was coping with losing the one. Even if Peter turned out to be less than noble, Zsa Zsa had thought of him as God's gift to Earth for a while there. Letting that go was admirable, it showed he knew that he deserved better, but it had to hurt.

"I'm not sure. I'll keep an eye on him tonight," I assured Jamie.

"And... your appearance tonight is locked in and social-media official," he clicked something with a presumed flourish. "Speaking of. Do you want me to link your Instagram for Saturday? The turnouts going to be huge, so if you want me to push your socials just give me the word."

I frowned to myself. "Saturday?"

Jamie paused shortly as if he was waiting for me to tell him I was joking, before he groaned at the realisation that I had no idea what he was talking about. "Rocky Horror night, Steph. I've had you locked in for three months."

A resonant fuck echoed from the back of my throat. A month ago, I would have been counting down the days to the event. I was co-hosting the screening, with Zsa Zsa as Frankenfurter and me as a notably hornier version of Janet, and I hadn't even cracked the sheet music. I'd been the one who insisted on singing Touch-A Touch-A Touch Me live, and I had completely neglected my duties.

Saturday was supposed to be for Aaron. Saturday was the one day I had to make things right with him, or else I feared our friendship would dissolve into high school obscurity.

But I had responsibilities to Jamie; my professional reputation to uphold. Jamie was forgiving, but I hadn't exactly been a model contractor.

"Seph?" Jamie asked, anxiously, and I realised I'd gone almost a full minute without speaking.

"Shit, Jame, I completely forgot," I babbled. "I think I've double-booked myself."

Jamie sighed, long and loud, over the line. I cupped a hand over my face, unable to come up with a better excuse, something to make everything okay between Jamie and I. I was disappointing everyone who cared about me, one after the other like toppling dominos. It's my best friend's birthday just didn't cut it as far as excuses went.