Pretend

I sat on my bed, listening to the harsh shouts that were echoing through my house. My brand-new iPhone chirped at me, announcing the arrival of a text message from my friend Renny.

hey bby grl are you busy tonight??

I sighed. Renny was a partier, and I had no doubt in my mind that she wanted me to go to the Southside rager that was happening that evening. But parties weren't really my thing.

No, if I had the choice, I would much rather play guitar by myself in my room, or write by the lake, or hang out with Seb.

cora! this is like important!! karen wants me to say if were coming or not

I sighed and shot a quick message back to her.

No, not busy.

great!! ok so ill pick u up at like 7?

I guess.

I put my phone back in my pocket and sighed heavily. The last time I went to a party with Renny, (Jason Martinez's house, July 4th of last summer) I spent most of the time letting her drip snot and vodka on my shirt. She had found out that her not-really-boyfriend Sullivan was sleeping around -with basically the entire crop of freshman girls- and she had a meltdown. She was determined to get hammered and sleep with Jason to get back at Sully, but instead she got hammered and cried so hard she got the hiccups. Although that could have been from the vodka.

The screeches downstairs hit their loudest volume so far, and a few seconds later there was a crash. Mom was throwing things again.

My bedroom door burst open and my eight-year-old stepsister Amanda ran helter-skelter into my room. Her blonde hair was messy and her face was tear-streaked.

"Jacqui's throwing things again," she sobbed, hurling herself onto my bed. I gathered her into my arms and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry. I wish she wouldn't do that," I murmured. Amanda sniffed and sat up. Her big blue eyes were puffy and slightly red.

"Can I play a game on your phone, Corry?" she asked morosely. I nodded and handed her my phone, then went to the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom and took a quick shower.

After I dried my hair and pulled on my favorite purple sweater and a pair of black leggings, I rejoined Amanda in my room. The shouting had stopped. Michael, my stepdad, had probably left while I was showering.

"Can I have my phone back, babe?" I asked. Amanda kept swishing her pudgy finger across the screen.

"Just a second, I'm almost at four hundred in Fruit Ninja!" she crowed. Then she scowled at the screen. "Darn it. I hit a bomb." She handed me my phone and bounced out of my room. I glanced at the clock on my wall and realized that if I didn't leave for school right then, I would be late. I charged downstairs and grabbed my backpack, an apple, and a bottle of Arizona iced tea, then sprinted outside.

I drove my blue Mazda as fast as I dared to my best friend Seb's house, pulled into his driveway, and, seeing that he wasn't sitting on his porch the way he usually did, honked my horn twice. There was no sign of Seb. I dialed his number and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"Hello?" he said, his voice slouchy.

"Where are you?" I asked. I managed to keep the bite out of my voice, although it would have probably done my favorite idiot some good.

"Heading to the Lighthouse with Rex," Seb replied nonchalantly. I rolled my eyes.

"I should have guessed," I sighed. "I'll see you there."