Yeah, if you could stop pretending to be dead that would be great.
--
A satirical romance revolving around the lives of a Spa's pool lifeguard team.
--
Jay has hated Rory for as long as he's known her.
Rory has loved Jay since she first laid eyes...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I waited a whole two hours before heading over to the party.
Which is about an hour after Candy and Shawn left for the party themselves. They had made me promise, swear up and down, on my ability to swim and my love of sleeping, that I wouldn't crash this party.
But I'm a liar. And I'm getting into that party if it's the last thing I do.
And it might be, because if I ruin this for Rory, I have a feeling Candy will have my head.
The party started two hours ago. Candy and Shawn left an hour later to be fashionably late. And I'm in my car with her present beside me after spending way too much time on my look. I had never had a look before. But tonight, I tried to create one.
I was hoping mine said, sorry I'm an ass but at least I'm an attractive ass.
I don't have a plan, per say, but I'm fairly confident that I can get in.
It's not until I arrive at Coog's that I see it may not be a possibility.
The parking lot is packed, there are two bouncers at the door. I can hear the loud music from where my car is idling and the flashing strobe lights are blinding me from the windows. I can see a bouncer staring at me so I pull out my phone to make myself look busy.
I'm surprised to find I have 8 missed calls and 2 texts from Rory. Well ain't that a turn of events? What did she call those? Plot twists?
The two texts are short and sweet:
Please. I need help.
And
You're on the list. Please come!
Well that solves my problem on getting in but worry is now nagging at my chest.
Rory is a proud person.
She didn't like asking me for help when we were friends, now that we weren't, I knew this had killed her. Something awful must have happened, she must have really needed my help if she felt the need to ask me to come to her party.
So, I park my car, rush to the door, say my name to the bouncer and rush in. The club vibe is already hurting me, the music is vibrating through my skull and the lighting is dangerously dim. Good thing I know every inch of Coog's by heart.
I figure alcohol is a must if I'm going to play nice and not get a headache. But I don't have my drink in my hand for more than five seconds when Rory is suddenly beside me gripping my forearm tightly like she thinks I might vanish.
"Thank God you're here," she whispers into my ear. I try to say happy birthday, to tell her I brought her a gift and to NOT tell her how rude it is to invite everyone but me, but she can't hear me over the music and keeps talking.
"Please, whatever you do, just go along with it. I'll explain everything later. I'll do whatever you want. Just please, please do this for me."
I turn to look at her and it upsets me to see her face. She looks like she's so desperate she might break out in tears. It angers me that she may spend another birthday in tears, not when she greatly deserved to have a good one this year. I feel so terrible for her that I nod in agreement to her pleas and I'm rewarded with one of her giant, albeit shaky, grins. We don't have much time to ourselves for the next moment Bryce has appeared in front of us, with someone on his arm.
