The scene in front of my eyes is partly amusing and partly confusing. Amusing due to the fact that both of their cheeks are filled with cake and pushed against each other which makes them look comical. Confusing because I used to think Callaghan was mad about Brandon.
I try to shift my expression into something which suits the environment more, especially when all eyes are on me, but it's impossible. My brain just won't let it happen.
The best I can do is maintain a neutral face. Which I try my best to do.
"What the fuck," I hear Aaron mutter under his breath.
"What happened?" Brenna whispers, loud enough for anyone to hear in that silent room. "Who's that girl kissing that Aiden ?"
"Michelle." I mumble, biting down hard on my lips to prevent myself from smiling.
Brenna gasps. "Wh- are you serious? Is that really Michelle?"
I look at Brenna in surprise. She sounds very sober now.
"Yeah, it is."
"Okay enough," she growls and bends down. I look downwards to see her opening her two-inch strappy heels and gathering them in her hand.
"What are you doing?" I ask her. She doesn't respond and unstraps the second slipper.
"Aaron, what is she-" I begin to say when, to my horror, Brenna dashes towards Callaghan and pounces on her with her shoe.
"You bitch!" She reaches out to hit Callaghan, who bends down just in time, so the blow falls on Aiden's head.
"Argh-!" Aiden groans loudly, clutching his forehead. "What the-"
"Brenna, what the hell?" Callaghan yells at her.
"First you abandon me, then you cheat on Brandon with this piece of shit in front of everyone?" Brenna shouts and tries to hit her again.
"Brenna, stop!" Josaiah - a Body member- pulls her back and tries to drag her away from Callaghan. Aaron runs up to her too and soon there are two groups gathered there— one surrounding Brenna, trying to calm her down and the other surrounding Aiden, swooning over him.
I belong to none. I'm just enjoying the view.
He isn't even that hurt, I want to shout at them. He is too strong to be hurt by a skinny geek's weak hit.
Aaron's head suddenly pops up from the crowd, and calls out my name.
I look at him questioningly.
"We're going home now!" He shouts, throwing Brenna's car keys towards me. I catch it as he says, "Go down and start the engine."
I do as he says and exit the apartment.
I wonder how Brandon is feeling about all this.
Wait, where's Brandon?
I pop in, to look for him again, but he's nowhere to be found.
"What the shit are you waiting for, Jennifer?" Aaron shouts at me, dragging a still wild Brenna with him as he walks towards me.
I nod and rush down the stairs hurriedly.
Once we three are inside the car, with me behind the wheel and the other two in the backseat, Brenna starts slurring again, too loudly.
"She thinks she's the queeeeen, doesn't she?" She shouts, kicking my seat. "She's an asshole! A plastic, fake asshole! I was with her since Kindergarten, wasn't I Aaron? We were so good.."
"Hey, did you see Brandon on your way out?" Aaron asks me while Brenna keeps on shouting at the top of her voice.
"No, I checked but he wasn't there." I say, checking the address Aaron gave me on his phone.
"I wanted to let him know that we're on our way home," he says, struggling to keep Brenna's legs still. I look at him gratefully.
"He isn't picking up his phone," he says, keeping his phone back into his pocket.
"Maybe, he just needs some time alone." I say helpfully.
"Yeah," he shrugs, patting Brenna's head as if lulling her to sleep. "Whatever happened today was very... it shouldn't have happened."
I nod, still confused about the whole incident.
"It's so sad, especially for Brandon," Aaron continues. "Because he genuinely cares for her."
"He does?" I ask him, stopping at a red light.
"Yeah," he smiles. "He would try to make her happy by joking around, bringing her chocolates and stuff. He was almost in love with her, you know?"
"Oh."
I'm very surprised at this. I never thought of him as a caring boyfriend. And knowing all this, makes me feel kind of sad for him. The disappointment he would've felt.
"Anyway, why am I telling you all this?" Aaron mutters, cradling a sleeping Brenna in his lap.
Does he like her?
So what if he does? None of my business.
There's silence in the car for a while.
"After we drop off Brenna, I'll drop you off." He announces suddenly, in the same cold voice I use with the Body members and vice-versa. "I'll take the car home and return it to her in the morning."
"Hmm," I mumble, stopping in front of Brenna's house.
*
"You're home early," Mom says as I enter, grabbing all the files and keeping them on the table.
"Yeah," I mumble, taking off my heels and collapsing into the couch.
Aah, my feet.
"It's still nine," she asks, looking at me from the top of her glasses. "You're never home from a party until eleven."
"The party was a disaster." I say, groaning. "There was a fight, then things started to get ug-"
"A fight?" Mom sighs. "Again? Between Aiden and Brandon? It seems that all you do is fight."
"It was between Michelle and her best friend," I say, wanting to see her reaction to this.
Mom stands up suddenly and grasps my chin, turning my head right and left.
"Why did you fight with Michelle? She's such a nice girl!" She scolds me, studying my face for wounds- or that's what I hope.
I brush away her hands. "Mom, what are you- oh, you're thinking I am Michelle's best friend?"
"You aren't?" She asks, taking her place back on the sofa.
"No mom, it was just a joke." I say, leaning back against the couch. "I'm not her best friend. The girl who picked me up today is her best friend."
"Oh." She says, nodding. "And you just stood there? Doing nothing?"
I widen my eyes and quickly blurt out a lie. "Of course not, Mom! I, along with some others, interrupted her before it got worse."
"Good girl," She says, nodding. "Now go wash. I assume you haven't had any dinner?"
"Nope," I say, walking towards my room.
"Then I'll set it up for you."
*
I burp and flop on the bed, tired. Grabbing my phone, I check it for any messages. Of course there are none. I hardly have any friends now. My finger hovers over Brandon's contact but I continue scrolling down. I'm not his friend: I'm just a less-disgusting acquaintance. Plus, even if I am his friend, what would I say to him? I'm extremely sorry for whatever happened to him today? That sounds so fake. And I'm not good at comforting people.
Lastly, I decide to send him an 'I got home' text.
My phone suddenly rings, startling me and it slips from my hands, falling on my face.
I groan and sit up, looking at the caller ID, which read 'Brenna'.
"Is everything okay?"
"I'm so lonely!" Brenna sobs loudly at the other end. "I've no friends, Michelle has abandoned me, and people hate me and think of me as some weirdo who tried to kill Michelle."
"Calm down," I try to pacify her. "You didn't try to kill anyone. It was just some hitting."
"Why would Michelle abandon me, Jennifer?" She keeps on sobbing, paying no heed to my words. "We were such good friends! I helped her in everything, I stood by her when she was in near trouble-"
"Because Michelle is a bad person," I tell her, cutting her mid sentence. "She shows that she's such a good angel on the outside, while plotting evil plans secretly."
"You hate her, don't you?"
"Uh," I pause a little, not sure how to respond. She may get offended; she's drunk after all.
"It's okay, she hates you too." She replies, sniffling. "She said once that you're the fakest person she had ever seen and that she hates your guts."
"Oh?"
"And," she stops, hesitating. "We used to make dirty jokes on you, how you sleep with each and every guy-""
"That's not true," I snap.
"-and how you earn extra money by selling your nu-"
There's silence on the other end.
"Hey?"
"Um, Jennifer?" She says abruptly, sounding stunningly sober. "Where exactly was Michelle on the night of the SQ Finale? Because, according to me, we were together until the announcement for the beginning of the programme was made, then she went backstage with the other participants. That's when I last saw her, apart from the celebrations after the Finale."
"Um, I can't say exactly because I didn't see her even once that day."
She laughs, scaring me. "Meet me tomorrow at 11 sharp. Got something to discuss."