You Are Nothing What You Seem

"I think I'm going to kill myself," I say.

It's 10:30, in the AM.

"Why?" Alex asks. We're sitting in the living room. He's watching TV, and I'm lying on the couch on my stomach, staring at the floor.

"I'm tired."

"I bet you fall asleep before I do."

I prop myself up on my elbow so that I can see him. "What are we betting?"

"Hmm…" He hums, thinking. "If I win, you go to a party with me on Friday."

"What if I win?" I ask.

"I'll find someone else to stay with for the rest of the summer," He says.

I grin, holding out my hand. "You're on." He grasps my hand in his and we shake on it.

So, if I hate him as much as I think I do, why does the idea of him winning make me sad?

-----

"Hey, Jane, guess what."

I swat the hand, flicking my nose, away, groaning. "Go away."

"I win."

It's Alex, and he's laughing.

I open my eyes, sitting up. I blink in the half light. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been asleep since like, eleven. It's seven at night," Alex explains, a wicked grin on his face.

"Shit," I groan, flopping back onto the couch.

-----

"Ready to go?" Alex calls through the door.

It's Friday night, and I'm getting ready for the party that Alex is dragging me to. Normally I wouldn't mind going to a party, but Dylan and his 'crew' are going to be there. Shoot me in the face.

"Just about, give me a sec," I say loudly.

I'm wearing skinny jeans, cuffed at the ends, with a bright purple tanktop. I slip my feet into blue zebra-stripe flats, and walk over to the mirror, inspecting my makeup. No smudges. Not that there's much to smudge. All I'm wearing is eyeliner. Grin.

I grab my bag off of my bed and walk to the door. I wrench it open, and Alex falls into the room. He lands on his back, spread eagle. I roll my eyes.

"Come on, let's get this over with."

He laughs, standing up. He grabs my hand and pulls me through the house.

"I know how to get to my own front door, thanks," I say as he locks the door behind us.

"Just a precaution, I know how confused you can get," He says, smirking.

I smack him. "Shut up, or I won't go."

"You have to, you agreed to it. I won the bet," he says, walking to his car.

I climb into the passenger seat as he starts the car.

"So, where exactly is this party?" I ask as Alex drives down the road.

"My friend Mark's house," He says.

"Lots of booze?"

"I hope so."

I wrinkle my nose. "OK."

He catches my expression as I turn to look out the window. "What, you don't drink?"

I shake my head. "I don't like the taste of alcohol."

"Well you won't care about the taste after you've had a few shots," he says, chuckling.

"Yeah but I'll care about it before," I say. "If I don't like the taste of it, I won't put it in my mouth, no matter how I'll feel after." He just laughs. "Get your mind out of the gutter, faggot."

"Hey, you said it."

"Don't be a cuntnugget."

"Cuntnugget?"

"Yes. Cuntnugget. You're being one. Stop."

"Whatever, weirdo."

I stick my tongue out at him, then turn back to the window. We're heading into the pricier neighborhoods. Mark's parents must be loaded.

Alex pulls onto a long, wooded drive, lined with cars. At the end of the drive is a huge house, lights blazing, music blaring.

"Mark's parents aren't home," I guess.

"No shit," Alex says, pulling off to the side of the road, behind a black Volvo.

"Don't they get the cops called?"

"Nah, they're too far from the neighbors for the noise to be a disturbance."

"Lucky," I breathe, getting out of the car.

"Come on, let's go," Alex says. He grabs my hand, again, and leads me up the dark road to the bright house.