Unwritten Pages

“So do you think I should dress up a little more?” Arianna asks, twirling in front of the mirror. “Or is this okay? I mean, maybe it's not formal enough—” I cut her off.

“Arianna,” I say, looking at her, “this party is most likely going to contain drugs, alcohol and like Desiree would say: many things that her mother wouldn't approve of. Do you think it's going to be formal?”

Arianna pretended to be clueless. “Hm...” she began, “I'm not sure... I mean, it's still a party, right?” I know that Arianna is acting, but she's convincing and I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh.

“Just kidding!” Arianna jokes. She sticks out her tongue. “I could have went in a potato bag and no one would have even cared. Damn, I should have done that for grad,” Arianna says regretfully, actually sounding like she had wanted to wear a potato bag.

“Yeah, real original,” I say. “You'll stick out like a sore thumb.”

Arianna nods. “But in this I won't. It's just...jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe I should get some scissors and make my jeans all ripped and it'll look so cool.” She looks like she's actually considering that idea.

“And waste all the money you spent to buy those jeans,” Desiree cuts in. “You can just buy those ripped jeans. Not that I would,” Desiree adds in quickly.

It's nearly seven right now. I can hear the beat of music pounding through the walls of my house. I swear, if I place my hand on the wall, I bet that I could have felt it vibrating.

“You wanna go now?” I ask Desiree. She nods, looking slightly nervous. As we head out the door of my house, I fall in pace with Desiree. I tuck a strand of hair that has fallen from the pony tail she had just tied behind her ear. “You look gorgeous,” I say, all while giving her a smile. I see her blush and I know that I've flattered her.

“That,” Desiree suddenly says, “is romance. You just don't want to admit your romantic side.”

Before I can say anything to her, Arianna looks back at us and wrinkles her nose in a look of mock disgust. “Will you two not suck face yet? I do not need to see that. You can do that when you're all woozy and drunk.”

The door of Chris's house opens just as Arianna finishes. It's like he's been watching us leave the house. He looks at Arianna and Desiree up and down. Instinctively, I step in front of Desiree protectively. Arianna holds her ground and stares back at him.

As if it were some sort of test, Chris grins and steps to the side and gives us room to enter like we had passed. “Thought you weren't coming,” he said, looking at me. “But I was wrong. And you brought a hot friend.”

Arianna looks up at Chris. “Glad you noticed,” Arianna says, sounding like an egomaniac. When she jokes like that, it's usually obvious from her tone that she's joking. But now—I can tell that she's deliberately trying to sound like an egomaniac. “But my standards are higher than that.” With those words, Arianna steps in the house. Desiree and I follow after her. Chris completely ignores us both and goes ogling after Arianna.

Desiree looks at me, looking slightly confused. I shrug—Arianna doesn't usually act like that but she must be trying to divert Chris's attention from us.

I survey the living room that we had entered. It's very...plain in the party-sense. There are no drunk people passed out on the couches. There's nothing on the floor that looks suspicious. In fact, it doesn't even smell like a party here. I've been to a bunch (almost every day) when I was in ninth grade. There's usually a smell of weed emitting from somewhere. Back then, it had been emitting from me.

“This isn't a party,” I tell Desiree. “I doubt that he's invited anyone else here. Come on, we better go check on Arianna before he rapes her.”

“He won't do that!” Desiree protests.

“You don't know him like I do,” I say. “He's the type to do many reckless things.” Just as I say that, I smell a whiff of vanilla perfume. I groan because I know that smell anywhere. Not that I had chosen to remember it, I just do. After all, she's stuck around me for a long time. Or at least, it had felt like a long time.

Desiree smells the perfume too but she doesn't catch on it and dismisses it as nothing. “Andrew?” she asks me. “Reckless things? What do you mean...?”

Right on cue, she appears in the living room. She struts in like she's the queen of the world. She's beautiful, of course, but I barely feel the attraction I had felt back in ninth grade for her now. Her long blonde hair looks too perfect and I know that she's put strong chemicals in it to make it look like that. She's wearing a strapless black dress that doesn't even reach her knees. It doesn't even cover half her thigh. Maybe a quarter of her thigh. Her neckline is hanging low.

“You again,” I say coolly, instinctively stepping in front of Desiree. “Valora.”

She smiles at me. It's not the kind smile you would usually give to people. It's a sinuous smile that practically radiates hatred. “Now, now,” she says in that high voice of hers. I use to think it was sexy. Now it just sounds like a whining child. “We call people by their first name, don't we, Andrew?”

I hate the sound of my name just rolling off her lips and I think she knows too. “Did Chris tell you to come here, Faithella?” I almost spit out her name like it's a dirty word. This 'party' must have been some sort of plan to get Faithella to claw my girlfriend's eyes out.

Just as I'm thinking about Desiree, Faithella's eyes flicker to her and an ugly sneer replaces her smile. “You,” she says, singling Desiree out. “You're the skank that he left me for.” I can see Desiree freeze from her use of language and I can almost tell what's going on in her mind: So I'm the skank now?

I know that Desiree wants to say something equally horrible to Faithella. Then they can start a cat-fight or whatever they call it. I don't want to see that happen so I quickly say, “what are you doing here?”

“Haven't you already figured it out? Well I guess you never grew a brain.” I clench my fist at this but I force myself to relax. Faithella can say all she wants and none of it will be true. She's untrustworthy. She always lies and to top that off, she had cheated on me for who knows how long. “Well Chris invited me here,” she says. “You know, just to reacquaintance each other.”

“And what if we don't want to?” Desiree counters. “I certainly don't.” She wrinkles her nose and looks up and down at the outfit that Faithella is wearing. Faithella looks as if she can care less about what Desiree thinks.

“I'm not talking to you, whore,” she adds. Before Desiree can say something horrible to Faithella, she continues on with what she's saying. “I was talking to Andrew. Surely your precious friend's death has severed any ties with your current friends.” Faithella makes a look like she's disgusted at the very thought. “Come on,” she says to me. “I know how much you miss me. You can have all the weed you want,” she says.

“Go to hell,” I tell her. “You're being ridiculous. Why in the world would I want you? Honestly woman, get a grip.” I can see Desiree smile a bit when I say that. Faithella makes a face at us.

“Have it your way,” she says. “Just don't come running back to me and begging for forgiveness when you realize that I'm right.” I roll my eyes. Does she honestly think I'm going to do that? Pathetic. Though it makes me think... I would have done that before I met Winter...

“Hey guys!” A voice comes from the kitchen. We all turn towards the voice as a blonde haired boy with pale skin appears at the doorway. Great—Avery again.

Avery looks up to see me. He's not surprised at all. “Hey there, Andrew,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “Have you taken the free samples yet or what? Honestly, I'm just waiting for you to crack here. Did you not find me yet or what? You're in luck because I brought an entire case of Meth—” He stops talking abruptly as he spots Desiree. “You back with your girlfriend already? Whoa, you must have some pretty good in-bed skills.”

“And this is...?” Desiree asks me quietly. I realize that she doesn't actually know him. She may have clashed with my friends in ninth grade, but she doesn't know each one of them.

“Avery,” I tell her. Then I say to him, “haven't I already told you to leave me alone?”

Avery frowns. “Hm... Nope. Didn't I just call you a loser? Yeah, I think that's about right.”

Faithella smiles at him. “Oh, Robert,” she says sweetly. “You gave the samples already? Why haven't you told me?”

Avery gives her a look. “I prefer if you call me Avery,” he says. I remember that his real name is Robert. I had been so use to calling him Avery that I've actually forgotten his real name.

“Avery,” Faithella says, rolling her eyes. “What if Andrew decided to nickname himself Faithella? Honestly, is little Robert still unable to get over his life-long crush for Avery?”

I remember have Avery had gotten his nickname now. We had a friendship that went a little while back than ninth grade. Back when Avery was more...innocent, he had insane feelings for a girl named (obviously) Avery. She didn't exactly like him that way and he had taken drastic measures. At one point, he had resorted to stalking her. She had called the police and he had gotten a restraining order placed on him. He was thoroughly embarrassed for a few weeks. Then, he had a change of heart and thought having the restraining order was macho. He nicknamed himself Avery. Everyone had thought it was hilarious, except for the real Avery, of course. I think she moved schools in the end. Or even country—I couldn't remember.

Avery rolls his eyes at Faithella. “I couldn't care less about her now,” he says. “She can go die in hell for all I care. Having a restraining order placed on you is worth remembering,” Avery says, smirking in the direction of Desiree. Though he looks a little unsure as he says this—like he still like this Avery girl. I don't even remember what she looks like.

“Restraining order?” Desiree asks me quietly. Her voice is alarmed though. “Your friends are pretty messed up.”

“Very,” I agree. I don't even understand how I could be friends with them at one point. Faithella looks as if she wants to claw out Desiree's eyes. But before any of us can say anything else, I hear a noise coming from the kitchen.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” It's Arianna. I can almost imagine Chris jumping on her. Desiree reacts immediately. She runs towards the kitchen and shoves Avery and Faithella away as she runs. Faithella gives a disgusted look in the direction that Desiree's running and she brushes her arm where Desiree had shoved like it's contaminated. Avery just looks startled.

I go after Desiree quickly while Faithella is complaining about how dirty people are (how ironic) and Avery is still in daze. I enter the kitchen, expecting to see Chris on Arianna.

But he's not on her. In fact, both of them are standing on opposite sides of a table, hunched over. No...not just a table. They're standing over a foosball table.

“God! This is impossible! Dude, how are you doing this?” Arianna is so focused on her game. Desiree is standing on the sidelines, looking confused.

“Hey,” Chris says, “you are good. For a girl. Still winning by two, though.”

Just then, there's a loud noise from the table as Arianna shots in Chris's net. “Score!” she shouts. “That should be worth two damn points!”

Faithella and Avery enter the kitchen. Avery must have not been paying attention when he had left the kitchen. Because he looks at Arianna with wide eyes. He looks around at all of us, seeming to want to say something. I frown at him—he's usually not like. In the end, he looks straight at Arianna and says, “you again.”