Rachel
"Miles, can you go get the keg and the liquor, please? I have to finish cooking!" I called from the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, hopping into the kitchen on one foot while pulling his Nikes on. "I'm already on my way out." He kissed me swiftly on the side of my head.
"Thanks, babe," I said, flashing a grin over my shoulder.
"No problem, be back soon!" he answered as he disappeared out the door.
I finally got all the food cooked, and I was sitting down to relax for a minute when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.
It was a text from an unknown number.
Bitch, you better watch your back.
I rolled my eyes. How did Iris get my phone number? It had to be her, there was no one else it could be. Before I could stop myself, I texted back.
Iris, lose my number and don't text me again.
Okay. Next time I'll just text Miles.
I growled under my breath.
Get a fucking clue, Iris. Miles doesn't want anything to do with you, but he's too nice to say it. I, on the other hand, could give a shit's care less about your feelings. I got the lead in the play (I know you wanted it; I heard you tell Yolanda), I have Miles, and you'll never have him. So give it up. It's pathetic, and you're doing nothing but making a fool of yourself.
I pressed send and waited.
She never answered.
***
I was putting on my costume when Miles came into the bedroom.
"Well, hello there," he murmured, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "You look so hot," he said, kissing my neck.
I cocked my head to the side and smiled. "I do look pretty good, don't I?"
I was wearing an extremely short, extremely tight strapless black dress that accentuated all my curves – some of which had only appeared after gaining the freshman 15 – in all the right places, black cat ears, and a long black tail. I had also drawn whiskers on my cheeks with black eyeliner.
"Yeah... and I actually have something you might want to wear with that tonight," he said, letting go of my waist and pulling a box from under his side of the bed – a gold shoebox.
"Oh my gosh," I murmured. "Is that what I think it is?"
He grinned and handed me the box. "See for yourself," he said.
I lay the box on the bed and sure enough, the top read Christian Louboutin.
"Miles!" I squealed, taking the top off the box and pulling out a pair of black patent leather pumps with 5-inch stiletto heels, with the signature red soles. They were the exact ones I had pointed out at Neiman Marcus when we went to Orlando last Christmas. Not to mention, these were $700 shoes.
"Do you like them?" he asked, his eyes gleaming.
I was already putting them on; they fit perfectly. "Like them? I love them! I can't believe you remembered! When did you get them?"
"I ordered them from Neiman Marcus' website. They were supposed to be for Christmas, but that costume..." He let out a low whistle. "You needed to wear them tonight."
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. We both laughed; with these heels, I was only about 5 inches shorter than him rather than almost a whole foot. "This is weird," I giggled.
His eyes traveled down my legs and to my feet. "It's sexy as hell. I'm keeping my arm around you all night... the baseball team is going to give me hell," he said.
I laughed. "Go put your costume on," I said, smacking his ass.
***
Around 9:00, everyone started arriving – the baseball team, some of the people from our theater class, random people from the apartment complex, and members of Phi Beta Kappa, the honor society I joined last semester. Luke had dressed up as a 1920s gangster, and Jessica as a very cute flapper. Miles was a lumberjack – red and black flannel, tight jeans, boots, and a fake axe. He looked positively delicious, and I had to force myself to mingle and not stay attached to him all night.
But as the hostess of this party, I had to mingle. I visited clusters of people, made sure they had enough to drink and eat, snapped a few photos, and eventually I made my way back around to Jessica, Luke, and Miles.
"This party is good, right?" I asked them, wringing my hands.
"It's lit!" Luke said, holding up his red solo cup of beer.
We all looked at each other and rolled our eyes.
Luke laughed and grabbed Jessica around the waist. "Dance with me, Jess," he said. She giggled and they danced away into the living room.
Miles set his drink down on the counter and pulled me flush against him. "I love you, you know that, right?"
"Of course I do, handsome," I said, running my long red fingernail down his bare chest.
"Oh, well isn't this a precious moment?" a sickly-sweet voice sneered from behind us. I turned around and my eyes landed on a girl dressed almost identical to me, except she definitely wasn't wearing Louboutins. Her brown curls were tamed, falling halfway down her back, her glasses were nowhere to be seen, and her makeup was way, way too overdone.
Iris.
I tilted my head. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
She grinned, the metal from her braces shining against her white teeth. "The cast of the play was invited, no?" she asked innocently.
I clenched my jaw. This girl was just not going to give up until I snapped.
"I sort of thought my text earlier let you know that you weren't welcome here," I grit through my teeth.
Miles put his hand on my lower back and breathed in my ear, "Stay calm, baby."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down. I had never had much of a temper, but where Miles was concerned, I couldn't seem to control it.
She stepped toward me menacingly, and I didn't flinch from her. In these heels, I had a good six inches on her. She looked up at me.
"Are you going to hit me, Rachel?" she hissed.
My nostrils flared. "I might, if you don't get out of my house in the next ten seconds."
She reached out both hands and shoved me backward by my shoulders. I gasped and stumbled, but managed to not fall.
Miles stepped in front of me then, towering over her. "Iris, I need you to leave. Right now. You're not going to come in my house and put your hands on my girlfriend. You're way out of line," he said, his voice a couple decibels higher than usual. People were starting to crowd around and watch. Jessica and Luke pushed through the crowd.
I expected her to turn away after being scolded by Miles, but what she did next was what made me come unglued.
She stepped toward him and grabbed his collar, pulling him down to her and pressing her lips to his. He pulled away immediately.
A loud gasp rippled through the crowd.
"Oh, hell no, she didn't," Luke murmured drunkenly.
I grabbed him by the bicep and with strength I didn't know I had, I pulled him backwards and stepped in front of him.
Before I could stop myself, I slapped Iris across the face as hard as I could.
She put her hand on her cheek and looked at me as if she were shocked that I had hit her.
"Unless you want me to use my fist next time, get the fuck out," I hissed.
Luke stepped up and spoke. "Seriously, Iris. I'd leave if I were you. She's not kidding."
Iris rubbed her cheek, where a red hand mark was starting to form. She glared at me one last time and pushed through the crowd, slamming the door as she left.
I turned around and looked at Miles.
The crowd started to break up and everyone went back to drinking and dancing.
"What the hell just happened?" Jessica asked.
Bitch needs to learn her place, I thought. Surely that did the trick.