Candy

August 24th

There was a pretty big incident today.
My friend Kay invited me to her end of summer mourning party- where very little morning took place- and I had to choose what to wear.
It was awful.
I stood in front of my closet and stared at my clothes for the longest time. I could wear skinny jeans and a band t-shirt, I could tease my hair into kind of a scene look and apply thick eyeliner, etc. There were a thousand of things I could do.
And people are wrong.
First impressions for a new year aren’t made on the first day of school, they’re made on the end of summer parties.
Finally, I solved the clothing problem by wearing my bikini, a tank top with words all over it and a pair of sweats that ended at my calves and kind of bunched together. What? I was having a lazy day.
And as my diary/journal you are not allowed to criticize my feelings, you’re just supposed to listen to them silently.
I was at Kay’s house fifty minutes after the party actually started.
I had meant to be only fifteen minutes late, but Mike and Jon- who were the only one of my siblings young enough and willing to go (Nate was a sophomore in college and Sissy thought that we were going to burn trees for the hell of it or something)- thought that we should arrive at different times. Mike was under the impression that anybody who was anybody arrived at a party twenty four minutes after the official starting date. And Jon wanted to arrive thirty minutes late. We ended up arguing on this topic until we glanced at the time.
Mike was all, “Oh shit! We’re late!”
Jon glared at him and said, “We were going to be late to begin with! Just how late was the question!”
“Well, there’s no question now,” I said, grabbing their elbows and the car keys, “We got to go.”
“You aren’t scared are you?” Jon, the senior, asked me.
I shook my head. “No. Why would I be?”
Mike laughed, “You’re going to be a sophomore! You’ve got a lot to live up to!”
“I’ve got a lot to live up to?” I frowned. “You aren’t referring to yourselves, are you? Because I-“
“No,” Jon rolled his eyes while Mike continued snickering, “You’ve got to live up to yourself. I know you did three varsity sports last year and that must’ve been hell to go through as a freshman but truthfully, sophomore year’s harder. There’s going to be new people on your teams and they might be better than you. Or at least the coach will think that. Truth be told, no one’s better than you at anything. ‘Kay Candy?”
I wrinkled my nose, “Thanks, but what does that have to do with being nervous for this party?”
They didn’t answer. Mike just turned up the volume for the song we were listening to. Soon enough, all three of us were belting out the lyrics to ‘This is Why I’m Hot.’
The party was okay.
I mean, I hung out with Kay and all that shit.
I think I may have given my number to some people, but I’m not sure.

x--- Candy ?



August 25th

Okay, so I wake up this morning and I get ready for the day. Dad’s at work. Mom’s at work. Mike and Jon are at work. And Sissy’s off somewhere protesting. (Big surprise!). (Actually, I’m shocked that Mike and Jon have both managed to keep their jobs.)
I got ready and I was just about to text one of my friends to go hang out somewhere when the song ‘Scream’ by Tokio Hotel started coming out of my phone. It was my ringtone. “Hello?” I said.
“Hey!” Said the unfamiliar voice.
“Uh,” I frowned. “Who is this?”
“David. From the party yesterday?”
“No offense or anything, but I don’t remember any David’s,” I said apologetically.
“You were a little crazy,” he admitted snickering.
“Describe yourself!” I commanded. “Maybe I’ll remember your face!”
“I look like a fucking nerd.”
“You don’t sound like one.”
“Ha, ha. You’re hysterical, Candy.”
“So, how do you look like a ‘fucking nerd’ David?”
“Glasses.”
“Not all nerds wear glasses!” I cried. “You’re just being stereotypical! Why the hell did I give a stereotypical person my number?”
It wasn’t like I had much room to talk seeing as I was going through each and every stereotype, listing each and every one of their qualities. You had to admit, journal/diary, the prep’s entry had to be offensive.
“Because I’m cute,” he responded instantly.
“That’s no reason!” I snapped, but I found myself grinning. “And anyways, what if I don’t think you’re cute?”
“Well...” David cleared his throat, I could hear his smile, “You told me that I was last night.”
I choked and then I managed to say, “Still. Not a good reason. My dog’s cute but you don’t see anyone asking for his number.”
“Do you even have a dog?”
Our conversation went on like that for an hour. Needless to say, this guy was pretty entertaining. But I still didn’t remember what he looked like. I called everyone cute.
Overweight, ugly cats to drop dead gorgeous basketball players. They were all cute.
I’m just confused about this David guy.
When Mike was came home for his lunch break I decided to ask and see if he had met David.
“Hey Candy,” he called through the door. “I’m here! Where’s Jayme?”
“Jayme?” I frowned. “Oh! Sissy? Yeah, she’s at another protest.”
“I still have no idea why the hell you still call Jayme Sissy.”
“It’s a flaw in my personality, okay?” I smirked. “So, I’ve got a question for you!”
“Great, what is it?” Mike started fishing some Oreos out of a cupboard.
“Did you ever meet a David guy at the party last night?”
Mike paused, “Yeah... I think so.”
I asked Jon the same thing when he came in, five minutes later. Jon laughed. “Yeah! That was the guy that the chicks were all over!”
So he was cute.

x--- Candy ;p



August 26th

So. My next option is emo.
As in for how to dress and everything.
They’ve got a pretty cool set up.
I mean, they basically have their pick from goth, punk and scene clothes.
Or, at least, that’s what I think.
The only problem is that they’ve got that damned reputation for being suicidal and cutters. (There was no way that I would get away with either of the two, because all of Sissy’s awareness stuff has gotten Mom paranoid!) And, speaking of which, if I started dressing like that my mom would probably sign me up for therapy.
But who cares? It’ll give me something to laugh about with my friends!
I asked Jon about it. Jon gave me a small look and said, “There was a cute emo girl in Chemistry class last year. Her name was Marie.”
“Didn’t you end up cheating on Casey with her?” I frowned.
Jon nodded slowly, “Yeah. I think so.”
That was the first time Jon had ever cheated on anybody. He felt so bad. But, he got over the guilt when he saw Casey attacking Marie in the hallway during passing period.
I asked my dad what he would think if I wore emo stuff. And he gave me a look and said, “Whatever you think suits you, Candy...”
Somehow I think that he thinks that emo doesn’t suit me.
I love my dad.

x--- CanDY! :D