All The Things She Does Make It Seem Like Love.

“We are going to warped tour whether you like it or not!” My best friend Sarah told me, putting her hands on my hips.

I rolled my eyes. “You can’t make me.” I muttered. It came out more childishly than I intended, but oh well.

“I can, because you can’t keep wasting your life in this small ass town!” She exclaimed.

“And how is going to Warped going to change that?” I raised an eyebrow, willing her to go on.

She scoffed. “It’ll add some excitement to your life, something that you seem to be lacking!”

Again, I rolled my eyes. “I go out every Friday; partying, drinking, hooking up, whatever the hell you want to call it. The last thing I need is ‘excitement’.” Sarah was the biggest drama queen ever.

“But you do that all the time, you need something new, something…fresh!” She turned around and continued scanning the isles of grocery items.

Sarah and I worked at the small little grocery store in our small town in Arizona. It made me feel…pathetic to be twenty years old and still in the same town you grew up in, working at the cash register. All I wanted to do was get out of this town, yet I couldn’t.

“Whatever, Sarah.” I muttered, putting a price tag on an unmarked item.

“Don’t whatever me.” She snapped.

I sighed and cracked a smile. “I’ll go with you to Warped, but only if you stop bugging me about ‘living my life’ the right way.”

“Yay!” She jumped up and hugged me tightly. “You are the best, best friend ever!”

I laughed. “Whatever, just don’t come crying to me when you don’t meet that hot lead singer of yours.”

“John O’Callaghan deserves some recognition.” She smiled. “He is so fine, though, and his voice….ah.” She sighed dreamily.

I laughed and shook my head. “Good God, Sarah, you are boy crazy.”

It was true, Sarah was the type that just fell in love with boys like that. They always broke her heart though, and she never learned from it, that’s what really mattered. I was always there to pick up the pieces, but I knew that one day, I wouldn’t be there.

I was probably the complete opposite of Sarah in some way. While Sarah was completely head over heels with almost every guy she set her eyes on, I didn’t fall for any guys. Sure, I’ve had some hook-ups, but that was spur of the moment only. I’d never had a serious boyfriend like Sarah’s ‘claimed’ she’s had.

But in my mind—falling in love wasn’t that great to begin with.

I mean, seriously? What’s the lure of being in love with someone so much that it hurts? That every second you spend away from that special someone was a physical stab in the heart? I just didn’t get why so many people coveted this type of pain.

Love isn’t as great as everyone claims it is.

***

“You better be getting ready in there!” Sarah yelled from outside my bathroom door.

I sighed and started fixing my hair again. It was usually wavy but today it had decided to be extra curly: just my luck. My hair was more of a light brown kind of color, sometimes even looking blonde in the extreme sunlight. My eyes were a darker shade of green, nothing special but everyone else begged to differ.

I played with the hem of my light green shirt as I took one step back and examined myself in the mirror. I loved dressing up, but sometimes it could be such a pain, especially when you had absolutely no patience. Like me, for instance.

I unlocked the door of the bathroom and walked into my living room and plopped down on the sofa. My black vans were next to my feet so I untied them and put them on, while Sarah was humming to one of her favorite songs.

“Okay, I’m ready, are you?” I asked, sitting up straight and smoothing out my hair.

Sarah held up a finger to tell me to shut up or wait a second while she did something. I sighed and grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV to distract myself.

“I’m ready!” Sarah exclaimed, emerging from my bedroom, wearing my favorite shirt.

“Wait—what in the world are you wearing?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She was wearing my dark red, tight tank top. Not to mention black skinny jeans and my favorite converse. What was with this girl and stealing my clothes?

“Clothes, duh.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“No shit. But seriously, why are you wearing my shirt?” I got up and turned off the TV. “And why are you wearing my shoes?”

“Because their cute.” She turned to me and pursed her lips. “Go change, you’re not going like that.”

“What?” I looked down at my appearance; tight brazilian jeans (I found them easy to move in, unlike other people) and a light green shirt. “I’m dressed for a concert not for a party.”

“There’s always an after party, Val, you know that.” Sarah sighed.

“Were we invited?” I put my hands on my hips. “I think not. So let’s go.”

“You never know.” She pointed a finger at my clothes. “At least go change that shirt.” She begged.

“Fine, but if there isn’t a party, you’re dead.” I walked over to my bedroom while Sarah was right behind me.

“Wear these.” She put a shirt in my hands.

I looked at it and saw that it was my purple and black checkered shirt. “What? No.” I set it down on my bed.

“Yes. Wear it, and with these under.” She grabbed a black tank top from my closet and grabbed the shirt I had thrown on the bed. “Put it on.” She handed it to me.

I groaned. “If there aren’t any hot guys there, you are dead times two.” I kicked her out of my room and put on the outfit she had designated for me.

Don’t get me wrong, like I said before—I love dressing up, but in this case, I didn’t. There was no point; it wasn’t like I was going to a party or anything.

After I finished putting on the shirts I walked into the living room and headed straight for the door. “We are leaving.” I stated and opened the door.

Sarah followed behind me and as I walked to my car, I wondered what, exactly, Sarah was getting me into.