Meet Me At Pioneer Rock

“Come on, Jewl! This party'll be awesome!” Hugh said, leaning up against his old-ass pick up. I flip him off. I hate hate hate hate parties. With a burning passion.
“Fuck off.” I yell out my bedroom window. I'm in my bedroom, on the second floor, yelling down to Hugh, who is trying to convince me to go with him to Calvin's party.
“I'll get you that bird necklace at the antique shop!” He bribed. My eyebrows shot up. I had been eyeing this necklace with brown beads and a few blue bird beads on it in this antique shop a few blocks from school. It only cost 15 bucks but I could never scrape together enough money for it.
“DEAL!” I shouted. I closed my window and ran over to my closet. I pulled out my red short shorts and my black shirt with Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany's. Yanking my outfit on, I fished out a cute pair of black lacy undies and a matching bra. I hoped tonight Hugh would notice me. I quickly braided my brown hair and ran downstairs, cramming my feet into my black Doc Martens I found online for $40. The bottoms were completely worn off from them being my only shoes for 6 months, but I didn't mind.
Hugh whistled as I turned around to lock the door. I internally beamed with joy. I turned back around and skipped to the passenger's seat of his car. He got in and stared at my legs. I poked his forehead.
“Stop staring and drive.” I told him. He shook his head slightly and backed out of the driveway.
“We have to pick up Ry.” He told me. I nodded, then, I suddenly couldn't breathe. His truck had three seats, the drivers, passengers and one in between. I would have to be in between. My bare fucking legs touching him. I mean why the fuck did I have to wear SHORT SHORTS.
I turned on the radio and on came Payphone by Maroon 5.
“UGHHHHH!!!!” I groaned. I hate hate hate hate Maroon 5.
“Oh, come on, Jewl, it's not that bad.” Hugh said, jerking to a stop at the stop sign he almost missed.
“Hugh, it's terrible. I mean, who sings about payphones?”
“I'm at a payphone tryin' to call home, all of my change I spent on you!”
“Hugh. Stop.” I said. I change the station and I Write Sins, Not Tragedies by Panic! At The Disco comes on the radio. “Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamned door, no!” I sang before Hugh reached over and changed the station. He hated Panic! Even though I had dragged him to their show a few weeks ago.
“You and me can write a bad romance!!” Lady Gaga sang on the radio. I started to get a headache from the terrible music. I changed the station again. NPR came on. It was only one of Hugh's presets because of me.
“This is Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me!” The host of NPR's amazing game show type thingy, Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me! Said.
“Be lucky I'm addicted to this.” Hugh mumbled.
We sat in silence for ten minutes on the way to Ryan's house, the sound of Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me! Filling the car. I listened as the host beckoned callers with the prize of that guy with the deep voice leaving your voicemail message for your phone.
“Go get Ry.” Hugh said as we parked across the street from Ry's mansion. Okay, it's not really a mansion, but it's ginormous. At least eight bedrooms, six bathrooms, a game room, basement, a studio, four car garage, and the kitchen that could be in Food Network. Not to mention an backyard that was basically a giant park.
I rolled my eyes at Hugh's command, but got up, opening the squeaky door of the pickup. I slid out and looked both ways, jogged across the street, and walked to Ryan's front door.
I jabbed the doorbell at least ten times.
“I'M COMING, I'M COMING!” I could hear Ryan yell from inside. I could almost see him running down the stairs, his Blink-182 shirt still half way over his chest and then him skipping the last step, sliding across the hardwood floors and slipping on his DCs.
The door swung open and his Blink bunny shirt was only half way over his head.
I knew my friend too well.
“Woah. Jewl. You have girl legs.” he said, pointing to my legs.
“Dude! That's like me saying 'Ry, you have abs!' I mean, way to go, Captain-fucking-obvious!” I said and I poked his abs. “Ouch.” I mumbled.
“Aw, does wittle Jewly need a band-aid?” Ryan said, using a slightly annoying baby voice.
“No!” I said defensivly.
“Hey, when are you gonna tell Hugh?”
“Tell Hugh what?” I panicked. How the fuck did Ryan know? I literally hadn't told anyone. ANYONE.
“I know you like him. Just tell him, Jew-” Ry was cut off by the sound of Hugh honking the horn. Ryan didn't finish his sentence.
“Put your shirt on.” Hugh said to Ryan as I slid into the car and Ry got in next to me.

We got to the party and Hugh and Ryan were gone. Ryan would normally stay with me, but I knew he'd been dying to hook up with Harmony. Such a stripper name.
“Oh, hey, Jewl.” Calvin said, approaching me. I could smell the alcohol already making it's mark on him. The party had only started twenty minutes ago.
“Hey, Cal.” I said, absentmindedly, trying to search the room for Carly or Sam.
“Wanna drink?” he asked me, putting a shot glass in my hand. He held up his own. I looked at him. What the hell. I wanted to get wasted. I would tell Hugh and then we would go to make out somewhere, in a drunken stupor.
Hey, it could happen, I thought.
We clinked our shots together and tossed them back, the liquid burning my throat. Horrible, but I didn't really care.

Many drinks later, I was in Calvin's arms and we were giggling about some stupid joke I made about Calvin and Hobbes.
“Come on,” I said, taking his wrist and leading him up the stairs of whoever's house this was.
We stumbled into an empty bedroom. As far as I knew, Calvin had had a crush on me since elementary.
“Can we just cuddle?” I asked, biting my lip. I was trashed, but I still knew how to control myself.
“What? Uh... Yeah, Jewl. I'd fucking love to cuddle with you.” Calvin hadn't had nearly as many drinks as I and was still pretty self aware.
I unlaced my Docs and crawled under the covers, Calvin kicked off his shoes and laid down next to me.
His black hair was curly and his eyes were brown, looking into my green ones, trying to find the real me. He was a few inches taller than me, at least six feet. He was cute and I was a pretty good friend with him, but I really loved Hugh.
But if Hugh thought I was with Calvin, he might get jealous.
I know, I'm a bitch. But I don't want to be.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, his thumb making small circles on my hipbone.
“You're adorable.” he said. I blushed and closed my eyes.
In the morning, we got up and he dropped me off at home where I got changed for school and we went next.