Abercrombie & Bitch

Friday, April 24, 8:04pm – home
“Can’t read my, Can’t read my, No he can’t read my POKER FACE!”

I’m just going to say this up front. Riley has got to be the worst singer I’ve ever met. I cringed and covered my ears.

“Crap, Riles,” Donelle laughed, shutting off my iPod on its dock, “You are definitely not going to be a singer.”

Riley stuck her tongue out at the two of us and flopped down on the bed. “I never assumed I would be, Elle,” she replied, adjusting her tank top, “I just happen to like that song.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Lady GaGa say in an interview that that song was about how she would think of girls when she was sleeping with her boyfriend?”

They both looked at me like I was from another planet.

“Um, okay. I guess not,” I muttered, playing with a strand of my hair.

Sleepovers like this went on and on for hours. Believe me, Elle, Riley and I had gotten into plenty of trouble with the neighbors when we were younger. Zach’s mom was the only one who didn’t mind us too terribly much, I guess – but only that was because I used to be such good friends with him and his older brothers. Where as I am one of the oldest of a bunch of girls, Zach is the youngest of six boys. Mrs. Sinclair is used to the noise.

“So,” Donelle mused, grabbing one of my little pillows, “Truth or dare, anybody?”

Riley and I groaned simultaneously. “Come on, Elle. That game wasn’t even fun in middle school.”

“One game, you guys!” she whined, “Please?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Riley, you go first.”

She glared at me from behind her bangs. “Fine. Truth.”

“Baby,” Donelle muttered under her breath. Riley promptly chucked a pillow at her head. And missed. “Alright. How did Mika take the… erm… news?”

Riley’s face went white. She immediately started playing with one of her curls, a sure sign that she was thinking. It doesn’t happen a lot, believe me, but on those rare occasions she does think… She sighed. “Fine, I guess. He was…” She put her head in her hands suddenly, her entire torso shaking. I patter reassuringly on the back. “He was… s-surprised. H-he wants to keep it, b-but I told him I wasn’t ready for it…”

I shushed her. “It’s okay, Riles, you don’t have to-”

She sat up slowly as smiled through her tears. “No. It’s okay, Mandy. Really.”

“If you’re sure.” I sat back cautiously, waiting for her to start crying again or something.

Riley sniffled. “Mika… He… Ugh!” She flopped back onto my bed and covered her mouth. “Mf ee oo Fm.”

Donelle and I looked at each other funny. “English, please?” Elle said, yanking the pillow from Riley.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t sit back up. “He doesn’t understand. I mean, I love him. More than anything…” The dreamy tone in her voice told me that she was absolutely telling the truth about that. “But… He just doesn’t get it.” Riley sat up again, fixing her messy, curly hair. “I’m fucking eighteen! I’m way too young to be a mom!”

I nodded in agreement. Didn’t we already have this conversation?

“Mika doesn’t think so…” she muttered, rubbing her hand over her face. She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I finally told my parents… They aren’t happy. At all. My mom wants me to get an abortion, and… I don’t know whether to agree with her or not.”

I quickly covered up Elle’s mouth before she could start ranting about abortion and all that. Once you got her started, it was impossible to stop. I have to admit, I wasn’t all that comfortable with the idea of Riley getting one. I never particularly got that interested when Elle droned on about it, but now it was kind of hitting home.

“Riley, are you sure about that?”

She cradled her head in her hands again. “I-I don’t know. I just…” She took a deep breath. “It’s either that or adoption. I… I can’t keep it.”

Neither Elle nor I knew what to say to that. We’ve obviously never had to deal with this before. I knew that Riley was right about not being able to be a mother. She can barely take care of herself, let alone a child. But… killing it? That seemed a little bit… extreme. Adoption seemed like the best choice.

I told her this.

She sighed. “I know…”

“Shut up and put your money where your mouth is, that’s what you get-”
I glanced at my phone. My heart sank when I recognized the number on the caller ID.

Riley noticed. “Who is it?” she demanded, sitting up attentively.

I scowled. “Zach.” I pressed the button and held it to my ear, despite the shocked looks on both Elle and Riley’s faces. “What the hell do you want, Sinclair?”

I heard Zach’s deep, masculine voice chuckle on the other end. “Hello to you, too, Muffin Bear.”

I didn’t realize my phone was turned up so loudly until he said that. Riley snorted and Elle burst out laughing. I chucked a pillow at her with my free hand, and she tipped over. “Whatever, Pookie Face. Let me repeat: what do you want?”

He laughed again. “Aw, come on. Can’t I call my girlfriend just to talk?”

“You really don’t grasp the concept of pretending, do you?” I muttered, aiming another pillow at Elle’s head. I didn’t care that they were hearing this – frankly, I think they were just as confused about it was I was. Zach was being completely unpredictable. Something clicked in my head. “Wait – who are you with?”

“The team,” he said quietly.

Okay, now I knew why he was going overboard with the whole lovey-dovey thing. If he was with the team, then that meant that Bryce was there, and that Zach would be doing whatever he could to piss him off. But, seriously, why did Zach care so much about getting back at Bryce for me?

“I don’t think Zach would try so hard to make things right… If he didn’t care about you.”

My dad’s words repeated in my head over and over. That surely couldn’t mean that Zach liked me… Right? Oh, screw it.

“Oh,” I muttered, glaring at Riley and Elle, who were still laughing.

“Yeah.” I heard shuffling on the other end of the phone. “Um, it’s kind of a party here. You wanna come?”

Damn it.

“Ooo!” Elle squealed, leaping up off of the bed and dashing into my closet. “Yay! Party!”

Riley got up and followed her while I cursed them under my breath. “I don’t have much of a choice now, I guess.”

Zach chuckled. “Alright. See you soon, babe.”

-[-]-

Friday, April 24, 8:57pm – Zach’s house
“I hate you.” I tried to yank my wrist free from Donelle’s grasp. She just held on tighter. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

I don’t know exactly why Donelle and Riley were so obsessed with parties. They always have been, and as far as I’m convinced they always will be. I didn’t do much to my appearance other than put on some makeup and change out of my sweats. It was difficult enough convincing my mother that I wasn’t going to a party, but rather Elle’s house for the sleepover. At least, that’s what she thinks.

Riley rolled her eyes. “We love you, too, Mandy.”

“I swear, I’m going to-”

I didn’t get to finish my threat before Zach came bounding out of his house. I could already hear the music blasting from the living room, playing some rap song that I didn’t recognize. It was a normal teenage party, I guess.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted, flinging an arm around my shoulder and therefore dislodging Donelle and Riley. “Hello, Muffin Bear.”

I cringed. The only reason I’d let him live after calling me that was because Bryce and Ashley chose that moment to appear at the door, their hands intertwined. Bryce looked fairly normal in jeans and a t-shirt, while Ashley – surprisingly – was wearing a skirt and a very high-collared top. Not so much skanky Prom Queen attire.

“You too, Pookie Face,” I managed to get out through gritted teeth, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Zach’s torso.

Ashley noticed. “Aw, look at them,” she cooed, poking Bryce in the stomach, “See, Brycey? Why can’t you act like that?”

I raised an eyebrow. Brycey? God, even I didn’t have a nickname for him.

I clapped my hands to ease the tension that seemed to form. “Well, let’s party, shall we?” I linked my arm with Zach’s before anyone could say anything and dragged him into the house behind Ashley and Bryce.

I hadn’t known that there were so many people in the hallway.

I hadn’t known that the coat closet in the foyer was open.

And I certainly hadn’t known that those people would end up shoving Zach and me into the cramped, little closet, slamming the door behind us.

I sat, dazed, on the dark floor of the little closet for a few seconds before it sunk in. Zach was in much the same state. We glanced at each other nervously.

Oh. Crap.