Saving the Reject | Michael Clifford | Editing

f i f t e e n ;

Charli

Evie had showed it to me after Mrs. Jensen left on Saturday: a picture of a camera; I had found it ironic, but Evie hadn't cared for my jokes about it.  She deemed the vintage polaroid to be the best gift for her, becoming reminiscent of our childhood of disposable cameras at the beach together, before everything went wrong.

"We'll split the cost," she had said.  "Twenty-eighty."

"Really Evie?" I had groaned.  "I can pay more than twenty percent."

"Charli, you still wear your mum's old clothes."  In the end, after arguing for a good half an hour, I had gotten her to accept a forty-sixty agreement, and the camera was in our possession by Friday.

Now, I put the final touches on the decorative bag in Scarlett's neat bedroom.  I could hear the murmur of the people downstairs.  There were a lot of people here: family, old friends, neighbors, even some people from school - though that category was particularly small, seeing as we weren't very close with our other schoolmates.

On Scarlett's desk, I was surprised to see a framed picture lying facedown on the dark stained wooden structure.  I was cautious, setting the picture upright, though I already knew what it was.  Scarlett was the spitting image of her father, we have this picture to prove it.

The beeping of my ancient phone was what tore my gaze away from the photo.  Scarlett had been so happy in the picture.

Mrs. Jensen had texted me.  We're about five minutes away.  Get everyone ready.

The plan was set in a rapid speed.  I ran down the stairs, getting everyone's attention immediately.  "Everyone hide!  Stay away from the front windows!" I called as I flicked the lights off.  The room was nowhere near dark, considering it was only six o'clock.  I ran out to the back, finding the guys by the makeshift stage, only Evie accompanying them.

Michael was the first to notice me, though he looked down immediately after he did.  I still was confused as to why he's been avoiding me, but with this party to plan, I had not given myself the time to talk to him about it.  I had to make up for Evie, who hasn't left Ashton's side since they arrived, as well as Mr. Jensen, who acted as the host as people began to show.

"Come on!" I said as I reached them.  "Scar's almost here!  We gotta go surprise her!"  I grabbed Michael's wrist, pulling him with me towards the house, hoping this would motivate the others to hurry.  I had no such luck.  They came to the house, yes, but not nearly as quickly as I had wanted them to.

Once inside, I realized that I still had Michael's hand grasped in mind, so I immediately let go of it, knowing he wasn't talking to me for some reason.  I sent him a sympathetic smile, which he did not return.  But, he didn't avoid the eye contact.  That's an improvement.

Mr. Jensen, Evie and I managed to get everyone to be silent, and not even a minute later, the front door was pushed open, the lights flickering on.  Scarlett stood, oblivious to the crowd in her house, messing with her keys.

"Surprise!"

The keys dropped from Scarlett's hands.

*        *        *        *        *        *

"Michael," I said to him.  He sat on the edge of the stage, tuning his guitar.  They were about to preform, and I know it probably wasn't the best time to talk to him, but it's been the only time I'd been able to reach him since the party started.  "Is there any particular reason you seem to be avoiding me?" I asked him cautiously.

Michael looked up at me, shaking his head with a nervous smile.  I guess he does get nervous.  "No," he muttered, looking back down at his guitar.