The Literary Misadventures of Juniper Rosewood

7- Having a Good Time

Circe could tell that something was bothering me as soon as I walked through the door of her house some four and a half hours later, but she had decency enough to wait until I brought it up myself. Which I didn't. She didn't pester me though, for which I was very grateful. Emma wasn't going to arrive until later that evening, but I knew that she would bother me either.

The message I had received last night was from Dalton, informing me of J.B's address and telling us to meet him there at half-past eight. I hadn't texted him back, which I knew was bad of me, but I didn't really care. I had more important things to do.

Circe's bedroom was at least twice the size of mine, and the walls were covered in Polaroid's of our friends and her family. She was grinning like a fool in most of them, which made me smile. She had laid two pullout beds out for Emma and me, and I unpacked my bag onto one of them. I had packed an outfit for the party and had decided that tomorrow I would just wear the clothes I was wearing now to save any fuss. Circe would let me borrow her makeup if I decided to wear any, and so the only other thing I had brought with me was a toothbrush and some deodorant.

Right now, we were laying on her bed and watching some mindless movie. My head was resting on her shoulder. I supposed, in my fragile emotional state, that I just needed to be close to somebody I loved. Circe, in spite of her wild nature, was very good at being there for me if I needed her, even if I hadn't quite worked up the nerve to tell her why. I supposed that the only reason I seemingly couldn't tell her was because it hadn't quite sunk in for me yet either, and I needed some time to process. Somebody in the movie had been shot in the foot with an arrow, and Circe burst out laughing, jostling my head on her shoulder.

"This is so stupid," She said quietly, and I murmured in agreement,

My phone chimed in the pocket of my hoodie and I fished it out to find another message from Dalton.

"Who is it?" Circe asked.

"Dalton. He wants to know if we're actually coming so that he can figure out how much beer to bring."

"Ooh!" Circe exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. I had half a mind to slap her, but I just rolled my eyes. I messaged him back and then put my phone back in my pocket, trying to focus on Adam Sandler's borderline psychotic antics.

I felt guilty for leaving my parents at home. My mother had taken a day off work, and my father didn't work on the weekends, and so they had taken my absence to go for a long walk around town and stop at the tearoom for lunch. I still felt bad for not having gone with them, but I knew that it would have made me miserable.

Circe closed her laptop as the movie ended. Not moments later, there came a knock on the door downstairs, and we descended to greet Emma, who had a large black clothes bag slung over her shoulders. Her curly hair stood on end despite the cold air outside.

"I've just been to the dry cleaners," She explained, "It's pretty humid in there." She pushed past Circe and I and headed up the stairs into Circe's bedroom. "Let's see... It's nearly half-past six now, and we have to be there at half-past eight, so if we want to look good, we should start getting ready now," Emma said.

"You're way too organised," Circe grumbled, but she flung open her wardrobe anyway to try and pick out an outfit.

Emma unzipped the clothes bag to reveal a gorgeous ruddy velvet blazer, which she flung on over her jeans and graphic T-shirt. It was the perfect combination of refined and casual, and it suited her wonderfully.

Eventually, Circe managed to pick out an outfit too, a snug looking green jumper and mom jeans that were perfect for the bitter weather.

I had opted for a calf-length tiered skirt, since apparently I wanted to freeze to death, paired with a frayed denim jacket. None of us wanted to look overdressed, but we had never been to a party like this before and weren't sure what to expect.

Circe did my makeup for me, since I was beyond clueless, as Emma de-humidified her hair in Circe's en suite. When she was done, I checked myself in the mirror to find that I actually looked presentable, and I thanked her. Emma came out of the bathroom looking like an indie rock star, putting the both of us to shame, as she usually did.

༓࿇༓

In all of the bustle, I had almost forgotten about the frayed edges of my emotions, and as we piled into Emma's car at eight o'clock to go and pick up Preston, the only thing on my mind was having a good time.

Preston's father, who he was staying with for the weekend, lived on the other side of town from J.B's house, and so it was too far for him to walk all alone at night, so Emma had offered to pick him up. Rashid and Ingrid only lived a few streets away, and so were going to meet us there. Emma honked her horn rather obnoxiously as we pulled up outside Preston's house. After a few moments, Preston came tumbling out of the door. I can't seem to recall a time when Preston ever put any effort into his appearance at all, but he did tonight. His hair was swept backwards, and he wore a red flannel over a white shirt and black jeans, as opposed to his usual hoodie. He actually looked quite handsome. He hopped into the back of the car next to me, and all three of us stared at him.

"What?" He whined. Emma shook her head.

"You clean up nice," Circe said, half laughing.

"I can put effort in when I want to, you know," He grumbled.

We arrived to find that J.B's party was already in full swing, but I reasoned that it was probably best to arrive fashionably late anyway. Ingrid and Rashid said they were waiting for us outside of the house, at the end of a long, winding gravel driveway. The house itself was large and old, with ivy snaking up crumbling brick walls. It didn't seem like the sort of house that any of Dalton's friends would live in, although it was just as large as I had anticipated.

Each of us glanced apprehensively at each other, and then up at the building. Within, music was thumping, and there were cheers and laughter. I realised that my friends wanted me to take the lead, but then Emma, in an ever predictable fashion, grabbed Preston and I, and dragged us inside, the others following meekly behind.

The ceiling inside was tall, holding a glistening crystal chandelier above our heads like a raincloud from Tiffany's. The deep bass of the music shook the walls, making the chandelier tinkle dangerously, and I immediately pulled my friends into the next room so that it wouldn't drop on top of us.

"This whole place is very swish," Circe said absent-mindedly. I couldn't help but agree. The room that I had pulled them into had a pool table in the centre, and while the room was littered with empty cups, and devoid of any expensive ornaments, the patterns in the dust told me that it was usually very decorated.

"I need a drink, let's find the kitchen," Preston said, and we all followed him blindly.

It spoke much of our inexperience at parties that we all followed each other like a gaggle of geese around J.B's house. It didn't take us too long to find the kitchen or the bottles piled on the island in the middle. Emma was the only one of us who even knew vaguely what she was doing when it came to pouring drinks, and so she poured one for each of us, a coke for herself, since she was driving, and a lemonade for Rashid, since alcohol is haram.

I stared down at the clear liquid in my cup with a thoughtful expression and then downed it in one gulp. It seared the back of my throat, and I almost coughed, but I managed to reign myself in.

"Another, please," I asked Emma, and she obliged. Circe looked at me concernedly but didn't say anything.

"Just fill it to this line, here," Emma said, pointing to a ridge in the cup.

"Good to know," I said. I took another sip and found that this time it didn't burn quite so bad.

"So," said Preston, "Where's Dalton? He should be here to greet his guests," He smirked a little and I could practically feel Circe rolling her eyes at him behind me. Just then, my phone chimed in the pocket of my jacket.

"Speak of the devil," I said.

Dalton
8:46 pm: You here?

Me

8:46 pm: In the kitchen.

I took another large gulp of my drink, shivering as a chill ran through my body. I could feel the thump of the bass in my bones as the house seemed to rattle around me, and I filled my drink again.