Glowing in the Dark

The Party

It was the night of the party.

Ali and I were sitting in her bedroom, doing makeup. She was adding eyeliner, blush, and other girly powdery stuff. I was doing so little blush you couldn't notice it. Jessica had told us at school that makeup was mandatory. So I used the trick I used last Halloween. Last Halloween, costumes of some sort were mandatory. So,  I had put one drop of fake blood on my forehead. 'Girl With A Drop Of Blood On Forehead' I was. And now I was 'Girl With Invisible Blush'.    

"Enough?" Ali asks, getting up and twirling her black dress around. 

"That's defiantly enough." I say, waving the powder away with my hand. 

"You know, I think I know how to get Amy back," Ali said with no emotional tone of voice, un-opening a make-up can.  

"Mmm?" I replied. We had to talk about Amy like we were posh old ladies in a sunroom, trying to drag the conversation out, or else we would go back to shouting and blaming each other.  

"I think," But Ali was cut off by a loud BEEP. 

"That's the limo," I say, opening her door and rushing down the stairs. 

"The limo?" She cocks her head in confusion. 

"Yes, the limo! Jessica said there'd be a limo to take us there," I swing her front door wide open. 

Waiting for us on the street is a shiny black limousine.  I run into it, Ali following me. Inside, there's Dennis, nibbling on a slimy thing. 

"Hi," He says. 

Dennis, like me, has a dark blue t-shirt and jeans. His hair is slick with gel, but pulled out in some places, like he hates it. 

There's nothing in here except a sad little plate of slimy fish eggs that I think are called 'caviar'. Oh, and there's a posh driver in a tux who has his nose in the air, and sniffs every few seconds, as if detecting our non-richness. 

Ali picks up a caviar and pops it in her mouth. She gags, spiting it on the shiny ground. The driver gives an disapproving sniff. 

"I can't believe Amy missed this," Dennis says sadly. 

"Yeah," Ali agrees.

"Hey." I say, not wanting this to turn into all of us sobbing on the ground and the driver sniffing loudly. "We'll get her back. But for now, we're gonna go to that party, we're gonna smile and laugh, and we're gonna dance the night away."

...

The mansion; Place Du Ville, is huge. The towering rose bricks scrape the sky, and the cracks wink golden light and quiet piano music. 

 The driver sniffs and opens the door, and the tawny gold light bathes us. The driver sniffs, and shoves us in, not kindly. 

Woah. 

It's not the normal teen-rock party. It's a dinner-adult party, and everyone is wearing long black or white dresses. All the gentlemen are sporting smart tuxes. I can see all the smart-dress people sniffing and glaring at me and Dennis's not-so-smart outfits. "Hi!" Jessica said. "I'm so glad your here!" I notice an expensive pearl earing dangling from her left ear. I really am used to seeing her in exquisite outfits, but what she's wearing now is even more then just exquisite. She has on a tight black dress with a thick, white jeweled belt. A woman in her twenties stands beside Jessica, also wearing one pearl earing. She has a black mini-dress on, and fiddles with her thin cherry red hair.  "My names Vanessa." She said quietly,  almost hiding behind Jessica. "I'll be your host tonight. I'll show you around." She motions us to follow her. "You see, Miss. Jessica is part of a V.I.P group. Usually we don't let anyone who's not from our group at our parties, but we found out that Jessica had special friends that she liked..." Vanessa chews on her earring and murmurs something. "So that's the deck... you can sit there." She points to a deck swathed in scarlet sunbeams from the sunset, crowded with people. "Thanks?" Ali says. "But I think we'll stay in here for a sec." I nod. 

"Okay," Vanessa looks like Ali said the wrong thing. "Well, see you around..." She gnaws on that pearl earring and disappears into the crowd. 

"That was weird." Ali chuckles, taking an drink from a passing waiter.

"Yeah, everyone here is an adult. Except Jessica, that is." I agree, looking for a drink that isn't fancy wine or something to quench my thirst.  

"Odd, right?" Dennis scrunches his eyebrows. "Like... I thought maybe we'd see someone our age, besides Jessica."

"And those pearl earrings," Ali looks almost scared. "They all have them." 

"Really?" We're interrupted by the cook with a heavy Italian accent, calmly yelling at a man in a tux and a lady in a black suit with short blonde hair. "What is now? It is the turkey not cooked? Wine sour? Everyone insults me. What is now?" The man opens his mouth, flustered. But the cook continues. "I am Chef Consoire! Chef Consoire! Chef Consoire waves his knife, and butchers a dead pig in front of him. "How you dare question, no, insult me!" He cries. 

"The man is dumb to insult him," Dennis says. The man hears us. He comes over to us, his face a crimson shade of red. 

"What did you say?" Mr. Red Face says, lacking Chef Consoire's accent but beating the smoldering chef's anger. Mr. Red Face looks like a bull ready to head-plow us. "You said I'm dumb? I'm Victor Gusefeather! And she's Beatrice Sally! We're the sm- I mean most successful working  partners here!" 

"Again, I have no clue what your names mean," I mutter. 

"No clue? No clue? You-" His face grows purple. "I just can't." He huffs and walks away. 

"I'm Beatrice Sally," Says the stoned-face woman, with a neutral tone of voice. She walks away. 

I shrug and head to the deck. It's warm, heated by a glowing fireplace in a corner. I make for the grass after the deck, a cliff overlooking a lake, with a wooden bench. I sit down, the cold wind howling at my face. I spread my arms-wings and imagine I'm flying. I'm free. 

Amy may be dead. Dennis may love Jessica. Ali may be lying about magic. But in this moment, that doesn't matter. Because when the lights go out...

I glow in the dark.