Dedicate to vincentvandont for her awesome reasons as to why Daniel and Sara should not be together.
Listen to Good to You by Marianas Trench ft. Jessica Lee in the sidebar. THE FEELS, BRO.
A long chapter in exchange for not having to sell my kidney to the lowest bidder? :3
Chapter 25
"I can not believe I let you talk me into this."
I was standing in front of the full length mirror in Allie and Jenny's closet, staring at the reflection with a mix of horror and disbelief on my face.
"It wasn't hard," Allie giggled. "You were a zombie from studying so much that you probably would have agreed to giving me your kidney if I asked. Besides, it's not so bad," she said after giving my outfit a cursory glance. Then she went back to fluffing her hair in front of the mirror.
"Not so bad?" I stared at the back of her curly blonde head.
I pointed down at my clothes: a lace tube top underneath a tight flannel shirt that was tied at the waist, jean shorts that would have fit a twelve year old and a pair of cowboy boots that I'm pretty sure real cowboys and cowgirls would want to burn.
"This," I emphasized, "is not the definition of 'not so bad'. It is, in fact, the complete exact opposite of 'not so bad'."
Jenny finished fastening the metal bangles on her wrists and looked me over thoughtfully. "Allie's right, Sara," she said slowly. "It isn't so bad – plus it is your birthday. You should dress up a little, considering where we're going."
Allie put down the curling iron and turned around to gape at both of us. "She's getting a frigging birthday party thrown in her honor by two of the school's most popular people! If I was in her shoes, I'd be walking in through the door in a tiara and a princess gown."
I rolled my eyes while trying to pull down the flannel shirt so that my belly would stop showing. No such luck. Needless to say, I was showing way too much skin for me to be comfortable.
"They're only throwing me this party because Colin Messer is throwing a Halloween party tomorrow and it's not going to be a costume party."
It was the night of the thirtieth of October – yes, the night before Halloween – which was, coincidentally, my birthday.
Colin Messer usually threw a rager of a Halloween party every year. But he didn't get the costume he wanted – that gladiator guy from 300 who yells 'Sparta' – tailor made in time and so he decided to ban costumes from his party altogether.
Which brings us to my current predicament.
Most of the senior class had already prepared their Halloween costumes for Colin's party. It was, apparently, something of a tradition for my classmates. When they heard Colin's ridiculous rule – anyone who showed up at the party wearing a costume would be automatically kicked out – they were, to put it mildly, severely disappointed.
Warren Brown High kids took their Halloween costumes very seriously.
Up until last Saturday, all hope was lost.
The solution to the party dilemma – and the reason for my current one – was formulated that day, when Allie and Nate both came over to my house for some much needed last minute tutoring for the exams we'd officially finished this afternoon – Allie in AP Chem and Math for Nate.
Allie suggested that Nate throw me a birthday party, seeing as how we'd both just reconnected and all.
Nate liked the idea and told Amanda about it. Quicker that a hat, she had volunteered to have the party at her house and help plan it – hence the whole 'two of the most popular people at school were throwing a party in my name'.
Over that weekend, word spread like wildfire that Nate and Amanda were throwing a party in my name.
When I walked into school on Monday, I was an instant celebrity. It was like I was walking around school with my Opening Dance dress again – silver and bright blue sequins and all. People I hadn't talked to in years, or ever, came up to me and asked if they could come to my party.
I could only stare at people blankly, something they took as a 'yes'. I blame it on the fact that I was a member of the walking dead at the time.
But that wasn't the worst part.
I was too busy to come up with a costume idea. I had better things to do.
But Allie suggested that the four of us – her, Jenny, Louis and me – go as characters from The Wizard of Oz. She even added in an offer of coming up with our costumes for us.
Naturally, I said yes.
It was the dumbest thing I've done to date.
"Allie," I huffed. "We don't look anything like the people from The Wizard of Oz–"
"But we are," Allie insisted. She pointed to her head – her already curly blonde hair was made curlier tonight. "I'm the cowardly lion and this is my mane." She was dressed in a brown jumpsuit that only came up to her thighs, fuzzy brown boots and lion paw gloves to match.
"Jenny is going as the tin man who needs a heart," she continued, pointing to her twin. Jenny was wearing a skimpy dress, arm bands and heels, all in silver.
"You are the scarecrow," she pointed to my outfit and the straw headband she'd made for me. "The three of us are Dorothy's companions. Louis, is in this case, Dorothy."
Our Dorothy looked up from Jenny's bed where he was sullenly playing with his phone. "Al, I don't mind wearing a light blue shirt and light blue pants. I don't even care that I'm wearing a white vest even though who the hell wears vests anymore," he spat sarcastically.
"But these shoes, Al, these shoes are ridiculous. You bedazzled these with enough red glitter and rhinestones to supply a Britney Spears concert." To prove his point, he lifted his feet and showed us the old pair of sneakers that Allie had recycled for him. "I'm not a hundred percent on your side. So maybe you shouldn't be using me to convince the slυtty scarecrow."
"Yes, thank you!" I said to Louis before turning to Allie. "Al, nobody is going to get that I am a scarecrow just from this," I pointed to the straw headband she'd pinned to my head.
"Well," Allie sniffed. "I think it you totally look like a scarecrow right now. Maybe instead of a brain, you should ask the Wizard for imagination."
I stared at her. "I should ask the Wizard for more clothes, is what I should be doing."
"Next time you can decide on the costumes then," Allie said haughtily, chin raised high up in the air, then walked out of the room.
Jenny looked at Louis and I apologetically. "I –"
"Yeah, yeah," Louis waved her away. "You're sorry," he said grumpily. "I just wish there was a way I could walk into that party without these shoes." He started to move his toes ala Dorothy in the actual movie.
"Nobody will be looking at your shoes, Louis," Allie said from the hallway. "Everyone will be looking at Sara because she looks stunning."
I rolled my eyes at her ridiculousness and closed the twins' bedroom door behind me. "I can think of another 's' word that completely summarizes how I look like right now."
Allie smiled at me patronizingly. She was already in a blissful mood that we were finally heading off to the party. "Well here's another 's' word for you, Sara: shutyourpiehole."
* * * * *
The party was in full swing when we got there.
The atmosphere looked no different from the first – and, up until tonight, only – party I'd been to. There were already people sprawled out on the lawn – the most entertaining of whom was a guy dressed up as Marilyn Monroe. I spotted Amanda and Nate hanging out by the banister when we stepped into the already crowded house.
"Sara!" Nate's eyes lit up when he saw me. He made his way through the crowd and gave me a warm hug when he was in front of me. "You look –" His sentence cut off when, with a horrified expression, he saw what I was wearing.
Where the heck were asteroids when you needed them to crash into you and save you from embarrassment?
"Cute?" Allie supplied cheerfully. "We're the characters from The Wizard of Oz and the birthday girl here," she pushed me forward, "is the scarecrow!"
"Yeah, sure, a scarecrow," Nate mockingly agreed. "A scarecrow from a strip club!"
Amanda slapped him in the arm. "Nate, that's rude."
"No, please," I told her and gave Nate a pained smile. "It's the truth."
Allie glared at me. "I'm going to go somewhere my costume ideas are appreciated." She stalked off to where it looked like they were keeping the beer keg.
"I should probably go after my sister," Jenny smiled at us then hurried after Allie.
Louis sighed. "And I should probably go after my girlfriend."
"Speaking of," Amanda smiled at me, "is Daniel coming by later?"
I shook my head. "He had a really important interview today so he wasn't even at school. I don't think he can get back until around midnight."
"That's too bad he couldn't make it to your party." Amanda frowned. "But he did get you something before you left, right?"
I nodded, smiling. "He stopped by early this morning –"
"And you were up early enough to greet him?" Nate laughed.
"He was bearing gifts, Nathaniel," I said patronizingly. "Of course I would be."
Amanda laughed at the pair of us. "So what did he get you?" she asked excitedly.
"A bracelet. I'd show it to you except Allie wouldn't let me wear it tonight because, apparently, scarecrows don't wear bracelets." I laughed. "Speaking of, Allie's probably pissed off at me, huh?"
"Not as far as I can see," Nate chuckled, his eyes trained on something on the other end of the living room.
Allie and Theo – the same Theo who'd taken me to my first party – were chatting in a corner.
Amanda was smiling at me when I turned back to face her. "Maybe this is a sign that our little scarecrow should start celebrating her eighteenth birthday."
I cast a nervous look at Nate when, all of a sudden, I was being dragged off by Amanda towards the liquor and, as I discovered later on, towards the dance floor.
"This is going to be a long night," I grumbled.
"This is going to be a fun night," she corrected.
Oh, how wrong we both were.
* * * * *
I was probably a forty-year-old woman in a newly eighteen-year-old's body since I just couldn't see whatever draw high school parties – or pretty much parties in general – held for other people.
Three hours into the party, I could swear I was going deaf, I was perspiring like mad and I was choking on the smell of other people that had begun to semi-permanently cling to me.
To top it all off, I'd been walking around Amanda's house alone in an effort to pass the time. Next to getting off-your-face drunk, alone was the worst way to spend a party.
The night had started out pretty awesome, ironically.
I hung out with Nate and Amanda at first – I even nursed my own cup of beer. It was good – better than good actually. I'd been having fun. Much to my surprise than anyone else's, I'd had fun because of Amanda and not Nate.
She asked for embarrassing stories about Nate as a child and I was more than happy to oblige. But she also asked about me, about Adam, Becca, and my as-of-yet-unnamed nephew. She asked about my interests and genuinely seemed like she wanted to get to know me. In the same way, I asked her about her life because I did want to get to know her. Nate just stood there, grinning at the pair of us.
Amanda eventually excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving Nate and I alone. We laughed, we talked and we joked.
Then Angelie arrived, spotting Nate and I sitting in a corner alone.
I wasn't going to try and explain how I wasn't 'creeping' on Nate. She wouldn't believe me if I said we were only talking about how I'd stolen from his emergency kit just a few days before.
I mumbled an excuse and sprinted in the opposite direction before she could walk up to us and rip my head off or something just as horrifying.
After that first half hour, the rest of my time at the party – at my own party – had been spent walking around in the hopes that I wouldn't run into Angelie. On my fifth round of walking around the second floor hallway, I heard screams coming from one of the bedrooms.
"Oh my God," I whispered in terror.
I'd heard about people getting raped at parties. They were the perfect setting for a rape. A person could easily get dragged and locked into a room with whatever sick creatures thought it was acceptable to force themselves on another person. The music would be loud, people would be drunk and, chances are, nobody would even notice if you screamed for your life.
My internal debate of whether I should get involved lasted only a second. If it were happening to me, God forbid, I would want someone to get involved. Moreover, I would need someone to get involved. Much as I am a believer of girl power, I wasn't at all equipped with any self-defense skills to fight off a male attacker.
Hurrying to where I heard the screams, I turned the door knob – which was thankfully unlocked – pushed the door open and received the fright of a lifetime.
I didn't see someone in the midst of getting violated.
What I saw was way worse.
A very angryAngelie Nash who looked like she was in the middle of tearing someone apart. I didn't see who she was yelling at though on account of not having completely opened the door just yet.
And for the second time tonight, I ran away – fast – and somehow found myself on a small, unoccupied balcony at the back of the house.
"Finally," I mumbled to no one in particular. "Somewhere I can take a break." I walked up to the railing and leaned against it, letting the night breeze cool me down. The party was still going on below and behind me. But I could at least catch a break and just relax, breathing in and out, and simply think.
I don't know how long I stood there, simply pondering how my eighteenth birthday party had turned into sprinting festival for me.
Five or fifteen or fifty minutes later, I heard the sliding door to the balcony slam open. I turned around in time to see three guys drunkenly step into the tiny balcony.
"Look what we got here," one of them said.
"Uhm," I blinked.
"You look hot." The same guy had spoken, his words mashing together in a drunken murmur. "Wanna make out?" he slurred.
"I, uh, can't," I replied nervously, my hands suddenly gripping onto the balcony railing.
I was starting to have a sinking feeling in my stomach. I dismissed it and told myself I was merely being paranoid and over thinking things. There was no way ... No. I wouldn't think of that.
Still, I wanted to get off that balcony more than I needed to breathe.
But with the three of them blocking the only entrance, my only choice of exit was down – straight onto a cement platform. For now, that was Plan B. I had my hopes pinned on Plan A – hoping that the three guys standing in front of me would just move on.
"Why the hell not?" the second one asked. He trailed his hazy eyes over my body and he licked his lips appreciatively. I was going to kill Allie when I saw her. "Think you're too pretty for us?"
"N-no," I shook my head. "I-I have a b-boyfriend."
The third one looked around exaggeratedly and smiled evilly. "Don't see anyone here, babe."
"Yeah," the first one agreed. "So you wanna ... make out?" His hesitation told me he meant something else. His expression told me he meant something sinister.
"No!" I said too quickly when all three of them took a step toward me.
"You think you're too pretty for us," the second guy repeated. "You think we're ugly αssholes."
I did but that was beside the point.
Keep talking, Sara, a small voice told me. Keep them distracted.
"No. It's not t-that at all," I looked around me. I don't know what I was hoping for – maybe some doorway from another dimension to open up or, really, anything to get me out of here.
"Then what is it?" the first one spat out.
"I just –"
They took two more steps toward me. Each of them was just barely an arm's length away. I could breathe in their scents, a frightening mix of liquor, sweat and what I shall now forever think of as the smell of evil.
I whimpered – actually whimpered – from some primal sense of fear that told me I would not like whatever was going to happen next. "N-No," I whispered. I was on the verge of tears.
"Yes," two of them – I don't know which two – said together.
"No," I repeated, my entire body pushed up against the balcony railings now. One wrong move and I would fall on my head. It didn't seem like too bad of an alternative.
"Please," I tried again. Thankfully, my voice was louder, more sure, more able to convey that I wanted this to stop. "No."
They took another step, manic expressions on each of their faces.
"She said no," a voice said from behind them. "Or did you three exchange your brains for tequila?"
It happened so fast.
I barely even had time to look up and see what was happening.
A fist flew and I heard the unmistakable sound of bone cracking on bone.
After hearing that first punch meet its target, I'd simply crumbled to the ground. I covered my ears and shut my eyes, hoping to drown out the grunts of pain and whatever violence was going on in front of me. I didn't know what was going on. I simply – and irrationally – wanted to just disappear.
When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I jumped out of my skin and nearly hit my head on the metal railings I had cornered myself into.
"No! N-No!" I screamed, struggling to get away from whoever it was that was standing above me. "Please, n-no!"
"Preston? Is that –?" a voice – a familiar one – said. "Shιt. Hey, hey," the voice said, growing a bit alarm. "It's over, Preston. It's over."
I stopped kicking and flailing against that hand.
It's over.
Who knew those two words would ever mean the world to someone?
"It's over, Preston," the voice said, inexplicably gentle. "Those guys are gone – they ran away. You're good, Preston."
Preston – only one person every called me that.
I opened my eyes and looked straight into a pair of warm, chocolate eyes, set in a face that, normally, would be smirking at me. Now, he was simply kneeling in front of me, and looking completely worried.
"J-Julian?" I stammered, the tears still in my eyes.
He smirked. "Glad to see you're calling me by my first name again."
I ignored the glib – the first in a long line of many other firsts that would happen tonight – and launched myself into Julian Pitt's arms. He caught me out of surprise more than anything. The moment I had my arms wrapped around his neck and my eyes pressed against his shoulder, I let the tears go.
"What the –" he said, understandably, in surprise as he tried to stop himself – or us, actually – from falling to the floor. "Hey, I don't do well with crying gi – ow! What the hell'd you punch me in the stomach for?"
"Could you please just, for once, zip your mouth? Just once. Please."
I told myself to calm down, to take down the sobs a notch because I sounded like a person who was freaking out. I was exactly that but I didn't want to be anymore. I just needed a moment to let let out the fear and anxiety I'd felt earlier and revel in the relief that flowed through me now.
"Glad to see my help was veryappreciated," he grumbled but stayed quiet for as long as it took me to calm down.
Strangely enough, he didn't think to push me away and just let me cry there, holding onto him like a buoy. That was what it felt like – like I was being thrashed around in a violent ocean and he was a safe harbor.
He didn't wrap his arms around me though – that would have made things more awkward as they already were.
No, Julian simply sat there and let me hold onto him, let me cry against his shoulder until my racking chest calmed down – probably with a pained expression on his face the entire time.
When I'd cried all the tears I had in me – which, surprisingly, didn't take a lot – I slowly pulled away from him. I felt physically and emotionally spent after what had happened.
"I'm sorry for attac –" I stopped, shakily. I didn't want to use that word just now. "For suddenly hugging you and getting you covered in tears. It's just –"
"I'm that awesome and you couldn't find any better way to tell me with words?" Julian finished. He was smirking again. That expression I was used to.
Despite feeling like I was going to collapse any time soon, I laughed.
"It's fine," he said when he saw the smile. The smirk was still there on his face – it probably would be, forever – but he couldn't stop the sigh of relief he'd just let out. "It was about time you came around and realized you had to act on those suppressed feelings you have for me, Preston."
I glared at him – though without the usual intensity I usually reserved for just him. "Way to ruin the moment, Pitt."
"Didn't know we were having a moment there, Preston," he pouted as he sat himself cross-legged on the floor. "Can we go back to you calling me Julian? It's the only way I can tell you're back to normal."
I laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't," I said, smiling politely as I moved to sit as far away from him as possible in the cramped space. "Angelie might really try to kill me if I do that – especially since she's already got a death order set out for me."
"Please don't mention that name in front of me – ever," Julian scowled. "She's been driving me nuts for weeks now and I've finally just gotten rid of her. So if you want to show your gratitude, don't ever say that name ever again."
"Why?" I asked, honestly curious. "Did you two break up? But you two looked really happy together."
"Happy?" Julian raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged. "That's what it looked like to me. I mean, she was hanging around you all the time and – oh."
"Yes, Preston," he smirked. "Oh."
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. "So why'd you two break up?" I was honestly curious, yes, but I also wanted a moment of normalcy – of just talking with another human being – to get rid of the mental, emotional and psychological cob webs that bogged me from earlier.
"I don't want to hear her name and yet you insist on talking about her?"
"I need something to distract me from the trauma I've just been through," I said in a mock serious tone even though it was the truth. "Unless of course you want me to go back to crying?"
Julian grimaced.
Jackpot.
His tone had been playful but he hadn't been kidding when he'd said earlier that he didn't deal well with crying girls.
"You're scared of something so trivial as a girl's tears?" I laughed. Julian's grimace turned into a scowl. "You can start talking now, Julian," I smirked after I was done chuckling. "Anytime would be good."
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah. Me and her, we're over. She just spent fifteen minutes screaming at me in Amanda's bedroom – and not the good kind of screaming, if you know what I mean."
"One, eew," I commented. "Two, what did you do to make her so mad at you that you two started screaming at each in the middle of a party? And three, why are you at this party – at a costume party, I mean? It just doesn't seem like your thing."
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Not my thing? And what is my thing, Preston?"
I studied him for a while. Then my face broke into a smile. "Getting into fights and generally being irritating," I joked.
"I may have gotten into a fight fifteen minutes ago but I am not irritating," Julian said proudly.
You are to me, I wanted to say. But I came up with a better comeback. "Why else then would Angelie scream at you? I'm pretty sure it's not because if your warm and cuddly personality," I smirked.
"I don't know," he said mockingly. "Probably because she's an insane, hormonal bιtch."
"You were the idiot who started dating her –"
"Do you really think I had a choice in the matter, Preston?"
"I think you're forgetting that I walked into the pair of you making out," I reminded him. "It didn't look like you were being held at gunpoint while you had your hands under her shirt."
"Exactly, I made out with her – once – and then she latched onto me," he grumbled before smirking suddenly. "Can this be? Do I hear jealousy coming from you – the Sara Preston?"
"I might be," I said, a small smile forming on my lips.
Julian smiled like the cat who drank the cream.
"But not for the reasons you may think," I said quickly.
I laughed at how his smug expression immediately fell. "I was actually jealous that you got Angelie off your back. How'd you do it?"
He sighed. "I didn't take you for a gossip, Preston."
"I was always a curious person," I reminded him. My tone was light but instinctually, I folded my arms in front of me as if a sudden chill had swept through the balcony.
He looked down at where I was holding myself together – figuratively and literally – then studied my face curiously. "Is she bothering you? Angelie, I mean?"
"No," I said quickly, probably too quickly. "I just," I paused to regain my calm and give him an easy smile to mask my nerves. "I'm just curious okay?"
"Hmm." He looked at me quietly with that strange expression of his for such a long time that I thought he wasn't going to answer my question. Then he looked away, smirking into to distance. "I have you to thank actually."
"Me?" I frowned. "Why would I have something to do with you and Angelie breaking up?" I gasped dramatically. "Don't tell me you've been harboring a secret crush on me all these years, Julian, and Angelie figured it out which broke her heart and led her to breaking up with you?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. Julian looked like he was in severe physical pain.
"I was kidding, Julian," I giggled when I thought he couldn't take the stifling silence anymore. "You've always enjoyed messing with my head. I'm just returning the favor." I waited until he stopped looking like there was a gun pointed to his head before I went back to talking. "But I really am curious about what I had to do with you getting out of Angelie's clutches." Especially since I'd tried my darn hardest to have that happen to me.
"It wasn't just you – Anderson deserves some of the thanks too," he clarified. "So maybe that best friend of yours isn't so bad after all." He looked at me sideways, smirking. It was his default facial expression, after all.
"I concur." I smiled, nodding. "When he isn't too busy being popular and actually pays attention to things, Nate's the best."
"If you say so," he said, his voice filled with doubt. "Anyway," he started, "Angelie saw you and Anderson talking. It almost blew her head off her shoulders when that happened. She looked like she wanted to rip you another one but you were gone when we got to where Anderson was."
"That's because I saw her coming," I grumbled. "And quickly ran away."
Julian looked at me again. I dismissed him with a shake of my head. He sighed, looked away and continued his story. "Anyway, she yelled at Anderson – something about you two getting it on behind Amanda's back. He yelled back that she was insane and you two were just friends – best friends, sure, but still friends. She got pissed and took out her anger on me."
"That doesn't seem like a good enough reason for you two to break up," I mused.
"Well," he said slowly. "I may or may not have told her that she was acting like a crazy person," he chuckled.
I looked at him, horrified.
Julian, however, continued nonchalantly. "You and Anderson are friends and that friend of yours is a lot of things but he doesn't seem like the guy who'd cheat on his girl. Plus," he looked at me. "You don't seem like the girl a guy would cheat with. You're the girl they'd cheat on."
I took in a sharp breath. "If this is because I'm too boring to keep a guy happy–"
"Chill out, Preston. It's not." He rolled his eyes. "It's only 'cause you're too oblivious to notice things which, you've got to admit, you are – even to the ones that are literally right in your face and," he paused, "literally screaming at you," he said in a louder voice.
I frowned. I sensed he was talking about something else here – but I didn't know what it was exactly.
He shook his head when he noticed my very obvious confusion. "The dumbαss who would even think of cheating on you would kiss another girl in front of you and you probably still wouldn't notice." He laughed bitterly.
I was too busy thinking to have come up with a witty retort.
I wouldn't have put much stock in this if it were only Julian who'd said it. But I remembered what Louis and Nate had told me – that I was oblivious to the point that it may cause the death of me.
Maybe there was some truth to that after all.
"It's not all on you and Anderson though," Julian continued to say. "Like I said, I may or or may not have told her that all the bleach she's been using to keep her hair that blonde must have fried her brain cells." He smirked at me.
I stared at him with wide eyes.
"Then Anderson's girl friend came back and he decided to tell her what a raving nut job she had for a best friend who liked to randomly accuse people of cheating. That didn't go so well with Angelie's friend and ... Wait, what was her name Amy? Amelia?"
"Amanda," I corrected. "Honestly, Julian. She was your girl friend's best friend. You should have at least learned her name."
"Ex," he pointed out. "Ex-girl friend. And I wasn't dating her – why would I need to know her name?" He rolled his eyes at me like it was a widely known fact. "Anyway, Amanda said she appreciated Angelie looking out for her and," he stopped.
"You don't need the details and I don't want to dive into that whole girl drama thing. But what Amanda said turned Angelie into a very angry, PMSing Debby Downer for the rest of the party. I got sick of her whining and called her out for it. That's when she dragged me into Amanda's room to yell at me." He huffed out a big breath. "She yelled, I yelled back and told her it was over then walked out."
"Very dramatic," I commented. "Angelie's ... she definitely seems like a handful."
"A handful?" Julian looked at me like I was crazy. "Preston, she made me go to a costume party. It's against every single one of my instincts to admit it, but you were right when you said that this," he waved around to indicate the party going on around us, "isn't my scene. And she made me come in a costume." He added the last bit like a child who was telling on his nanny for making him eat broccoli.
"But you're not in a costume." I pointed at his clothes: leather jacket, white shirt, dark jeans and combat boots. "You're still wearing the same clothes you always do."
He shook his head. "The difference is, I'm supposed to be John Travolta from Grease. He dressed like this too and was supposedly cool in that movie but, let's face it, having to dress up as anyone is a step down from being me."
"Your ego needs its own country – and not a small one either," I laughed. "What did Angelie come as?"
"Whatever chick John Travolta's character ended up with in the movie?" He shrugged. "But she just looks like a waitress at some retro style diner to me."
"I never thought I'd see the day Julian Pitt would come to my costume party and be in a couple's costume with someone," I smirked.
"I'm not in costume anymore. Now I'm just being my usual irritating self. John Travolta has left the building." Julian laughed. "But thank God we broke up. I was starting to get tired of her acting like she had to be the sun, moon and stars in my universe."
I smiled thoughtfully, looked down and started playing with my hands. "I never saw why girls wanted to be compared to stars and stuff like that."
"Really? I thought girls liked when we called them heavenly bodies." Even I didn't miss that blatant innuendo. "But I'll bite and ask: why don't you like being compared to a star, Preston?"
"Because even the closest stars are light years away." I shrugged. "Some of the most beautiful ones that we see? By the time their light reaches us, they're dead and gone – just blackholes. Why would I want to be compared to something like that? I wouldn't want a guy, or anyone, relaly, to see me like they would a star ... by the time they get to see my worth, it'd be too late," I finished sadly.
Julian was smiling at me with that nuclear smile of his.
He had to ruin the sheer beauty of the whole thing – because Julian Pitt was one good looking guy, to say the very least – by using his mouth to say things instead of just smile. "You are such a dork."
I laughed. "Dork or not, those are the facts, Julian."
"But what is it that you would want to be compared to?" He smiled again, softer this time.
I didn't even have to think about it before the words left my mouth. "A book – a really good one."
"See?" He rolled his eyes. "Such a dork – no, wait, the ultimate dork."
"And we were having such a moment," I laughed.
He laughed. "Why, though? I mean, why wouldn't you want to be a rose or something pretty."
"But a book is pretty," I quickly argued. "A good book – a really good one – it pulls you in at the first page, at the first sentence," I gushed.
"You don't have to wait to see that it's good because you just know that it is – you can feel that it is. You can have a million reasons for why that one book is your favorite – or you could have no reason at all, which to me, is much better. But whichever of the two it may be, the feeling just never goes away no matter how many times you think about what happens in that book. It's just always good. It always makes you feel like everything, like the entire universe with all the suns and moons and stars, is coming together when you read the words in that one book's pages. Like it's just ... right and comfortable and exciting at the same time, as cheesy as it sounds," I chuckled.
"Plus, you never get tired of it," I pointed out. "Everytime you read it again, you remember why you thought it was so good in the first place and you discover new great things about it that you didn't see before."
"And no matter what anyone says, you just like that book. You love it even when other people say it's not exciting or that it doesn't have enough emotion or adventure or whatever it is other people look for in books."
I smiled at my hands. "Because that's the way things are. People look for different things in books, like they do when it comes to the people they choose to love. Everyone has their reasons and everyone's different but when it comes to something like you and that one book, you just see it and it's just," I paused. "It's just it."
"If someone saw me like I was that book for them, I'd be set for life. I may not be great to everyone but at least to that someone, I am." I chuckled.
He looked at me thoughtfully before finally quietly asking, "So have you found that one book that's all of that for you?"
As an answer, I smiled.
Julian smiled back, a bit sadly though which seemed off and strange to me. We sat in silence, watching as the party continued to unfold below us – ironically, without me considering it was thrown in my honor.
"I should get going," I sighed after a while. "It's getting pretty late and we still have school tomorrow."
Julian nodded and cleared his throat as I stood up. "You look nice, by the way," he said awkwardly. "Your, uh, clothes," he continued when I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "They look good on you."
"I don't think you care about how the clothes look on me specifically but that these shorts are really short," I laughed.
He shrugged. "Figured a compliment from me was enough of a birthday gift for anyone – even for a girl like you who's always got her head behind a book," he smirked, bloated ego and all. "Happy birthday by the way."
"Thanks," I chuckled, shaking my head. "But you already got me the best gift anyone could have given," I said sincerely.
I could tell from the small smile he gave me that he understood.
Who knows what could have happened if he hadn't arrived when he did?
Well, I had a clue as to what could have happened – and it definitely would not have made for a happy birthday, I can say that much. Much as I abhorred violence – especially when it was done in my name – I had to admit that there were a couple of exceptions.
As I turned around and pushed the sliding door open to get back into the party, I realized I never thanked him properly just yet.
I quickly turned back around and gave Julian Pitt a shy smile before I reached up on tiptoe, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a warm hug.
"Thank you, Julian," I whispered into his leather jacket. "I meant what I said – you did give me the best birthday gift."
I felt his arms slide around my waist briefly, probably out of surprise more than anything, and warmly squeeze me in return before they dropped back to his side.
With one last smile at him, I turned around and began to search for my friends.
I shall dedicate the next chapter to the person who can give me the BEST reason/s why Sara should NOT end up with Julian.
That whole stars-light years-blackholes thing is not my original idea. It's a throwback to the book My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I'd highly recommend that you read it but the ending is a - I don't normally swear in this book - bitch so you better get a box of Kleenex at the ready. The whole 'good book' thing though is completely my own idea :)
Story Recommendation: "45 Days to Save the Bad Boy" by AwesomeMC
Story Description: Georgie Talbot is a nerd. She gets bullied daily, but does nothing to stop it. One day, a creepy man who is neither a murderer, rapist or stalker (she checked) approaches her. He needs her help. His son, Breton Joel, needs to be saved within 45. Georgie says yes, and with that her impossible mission begins. Breton Joel is a bad boy. He's never met Georgie, never hear of her. If he has seen her, it would have been that one time he knocked her down in the hallway, but he wasn't paying attention to her then. He needs help, needs Georgie's help, but he doesn't know it yet. When the two meet it's Georgie's worst nightmare. Saving the bad boy? From what? He's not the one being bullied! He doesn't need saving from anything. He can do this himself! Unfortunately, Georgie's first impression is wrong. Breton needs her help. Badly. But Georgie needs his help too. Can these two work together, and in 45 days stop something sinister? What happens when the 45 days are up?
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- Chompy