Spying on the Enemy

Chapter 3

Spencer agreed to accompany me to the party tonight. Quinn decided to come to-more out of support for me. She knows all about Mason and his snide comments to me.

“How does this look?” I pose with my hand on my hip. I wear leggings with a jean shirt and Coach rain bootss.

“Like you're trying to seduce Mason.” Quinn flips through a magazine lying open on my bed. She sports her usual outfit: jeans and a plaid shirt with riding boots.

Facing her, I stick my tongue out at her. “Let's get this straight, I am not trying to seduce anyone.”

“Ryan's probably going to be there.”

My heart thumps in my chest remembering how hard I crushed on Ryan Evans last year. It turned out he thought I was another above everyone else because of who my dad was. He always rolled his eyes when I was around or made some obnoxious comments towards me. I never told Quinn about any of that though.

“Great...we should get going. Spencer's waiting downstairs with Theo.” I turn off the light to my room indicating for Quinn to get moving. Quinn has always been shy; not a fan of crowds either. Unlike her, I am the complete opposite. While I hate drinking, I love going to parties, mostly to people watch. I have always been a fan of dancing.

“Let's get moving ladies.” Spencer gets off the couch.

Theo sits on the ground playing a video game. He yells at the T.V. My mom sits in her office as we pass. I kiss her on the cheek before we go across the street. Mom reminds us to be safe and not drink. Quinn looks between Spencer and me nervously. I told her that it would be a dry party. Obviously she wants to rip my head off.

“There's going to be alcohol there?” Quinn pulls my arm.

I shake out of her embrace, walking ahead of Spencer. Spencer throws his arm around Quinn's shoulder. They start talking, her frantically, him calmly. Rolling my eyes, I open the door to Mason's condo. The music is blaring when I enter the foyer. It is bare except for a few photos of Mason and his father. In one picture is a woman with delicate features. She looks like Mason.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Mason walks into the foyer.

Quinn stops in her track, pulling Spencer to a hault as well. I walk up to Mason who is holding a beer in his hand. I take it out of hands, resting it on the table next to us. He watches my movements as I shove past him.

“Drinking isn't good for you,” I call back to him with Quinn and Spencer trailing after me

Mason follows me into the living room that is full of our senior class. Spencer grabs a water for Quinn and myself. I take it from his hand, tugging Quinn along as I zigzag in between my classmates. Ryan sits on the edge of the couch nursing a beer can in his hand. Quinn nudges me with her shoulder, coughing to make me look over at Ryan. I look at her and then make my way into the kitchen. She follows suit.

“Why didn't you go talk to Ryan? He is sitting there basically waiting for interaction.”

“Because I-” just as I'm about to make a lame excuse, Mason comes up to us.

“You girls look nice. Especially you Tia; you're looking real good.”

Quinn's eyebrows rise to her forehead. “I think you're drunk,” I say.

Mason rolls his eyes, “the host of a party never gets drunk. That would be stupid.”

“Exactly. You just don't seem like the logical kind of party host.” I cross my arms against my chest, urging him to argue.

“Tia!” Quinn scolds me.

I push past Quinn and Mason to find the bathroom. On my way there, I see a glint on the stairwell that catches my eyes. Looking both ways, I start to walk up the stairs towards the light. I inspect each step, finally settling my eyes on the culprit: a disgardered glass. Sighing, I sit on the stairs listening to the party around me.

I have never been a fan of drinking parties. They never appealed to me as much as dance parties. As a young girl, I took ever dance class possible. I quit dancing my sophmore year when I began to take an interest in boxing. Since then, I have been attending cardio kickboxing classes. The classes are great to gain strength and self-defense. I look forward to my class each week. I start off the week with a class. It really helps me blow off steam too. A sound comes from the kitchen, some sort of crashing sound. I walk back down the stairs forgetting Quinn's paranoia with parties. She probably wants to kill me for ditching her.

“Where were you?” Quinn sneaks up on me. “Why were coming from upstairs?”

“Um...the bathroom down her was occupied.” I shrug.

We walk back into the kitchen where people are now setting up the karaoke machine. Spencer talks to Mason. They stare at me when I walk into the room. Ryan is nowhere to be seen. He must be in the kitchen. I push Quinn ahead of me to avoid eye contact with Mason. She glares at me, nearly tripping on the carpet. We manage to wedge onto the edge of the couch where another couple sits. Spencer sits down on the arm rest next to me.

“Mason says you were being rude to him.”

“That's because he's rude,” I state simply.

“You need to learn how to filter yourself.” Spencer smiles at me.

Ignoring him, I focus on the scene in front of me. Courtney and Emma, the captains of the varsity cheer team belt out a song from the ninties. People get off the couches to start dancing along with the music. Quinn shimmies, still sitting on the couch. Spencer belts out the chorus of the song, wedging himself between the two girls singing. Courtney gives him the microphone to sing the rest of the song. Thirty minutes later the singing is still going. Quinn even got up to sing a song. The energy around me is contagious. Against my better judgment, I accept the drink Mason gives me. The taste is bitter, but still decent enough to finish. He smiles at me, taking my hand to lead me to the karoke machine. I might be slightly buzzed if I agreed to sing a song with my sworn enemy in front of all these people. I belt out some country song that was populr during the summer. Mason's voice is awful, as is mine. The room claps and sings along with us.

I sit back on the couch next to Quinn who is now talking to a boy on our school's soccer team. His name is Dylan I think. She twirls her red hair around her finger. The night turns more mellow with each passing period. Mostly everyone is gone of tired from all the dancing and singing. Quinn's head is resting against my shoulder. Spencer left an hour ago because his curfew is unreasonably early. I look at my cell phone noticing that I am ten minutes late for curfew.

Jumping off the couch, I shake Quinn awake. Since she's spending the night at my house, her parents won't be on her case about missing curfew. My dad won't mind, but my mom will surely have my head. She's extremely strick when it comes to curfew. I move around people sprawled out on the floor. Mason is in the kitchen cleaning up with Emma. She flirts with him while throwing away cups. I say a quick good bye to them before he can stop me. Quinn stumbles after me. She didn't drink anything, but I did. Hopefully my mom doesn't notice.

We walk silently across the street. I unlock my door, entering our foyer as quitely as possible humanly possible. The light flicks on revealing my mom in her pajamas. She looks seriously upset. Her arms are crossed across her chest. “You missed curfew.”

“I know and I'm sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't cut it. Tia, how many times have I drilled it into your head to be home promptly at midnight? For all I know you could have gotten hurt or anything could have happened.”

“I was just across the street,” I say lamely.

This only angers her more. “We'll discuss this in the morning with your dad. And when Quinn isn't here.”

 “I just lost track of time,” I try to explain but my mom has already walked away from me.