Five Minutes to Midnight

4:7 Ryley and the Little Chipmunks

I curse Jason and Matthew as I attempt a twirl and stumble, effectively making a jolt of pain go through my ankle. I huff, clearly not discouraged as I march forward, screaming.

"I SAID YOU'RE HOLDING BACK, SHE SAID SHUT UP AND DANCE WITH ME!" Ignoring all the curious stares, I determinedly make my way to the group laughing near a bench. Gripping the lukewarm cup of coffee, I push it into Sam's chest as I grab Cam's hand. My feet dance along the cobbled stones of the school's pathway as I obnoxiously scream out verses and tug Cam's stumbling form along with me in a discordant dance. Cam being his rich, snobby, pop culturey self doesn't recognize the song and instead starts to scream out the lyrics to Bad Blood by Taylor Swift.

It only takes a minute for my friends to join in and create a concert of their own. We have Jason singing Bones by Young Guns, Matthew with that disturbing Happy song, and Sam with We Are Golden by MIKA. We continue our unusual portrayal of weirdness until the bell rings. It's all too bad that we aren't in High School Musical, otherwise we'd continue singing but with an extra addition of basketballs. Of course, Sam would be Sharpay and I would be the little gay brother. We're a package deal like that.

Us being the cliche little group that we are, hook our arms together and skip through Hell's gates.

%%%%%

I'm called out during study hall, along with Sam, to survey the set up for our Mock Trial party. People usually assume that I'm a human lacking all brain cells with the loony way that I act. They basically think that I'm effing stupid. They're right. But with my awesome flair of dramatics comes an acute acting skill. Not only am I usually the star of all our school's plays, but I'm the best Mock Trial member.

Not to brag or anything.

So naturally, I basically won us the States' championship. And so with winning comes celebrating. This year's Mock Trial team is especially creative with the celebratory program. I can't reveal anything, but it involves the choir and huge helium balloons. Sam and I go to the auditorium where the event is taking place. Tying, blowing, grabbing, and pulling take up about an hour until the school is called into the room.

Once everyone is seated, the Choir steps onto the stage. It consists of Jason, Matthew, Sam, Me, and some creepy Tom guy. I guess you could say that our school isn't very artistically gifted. But being the outrageously bold group that we are, we signed up for it. We make quite a terrible team. My thoughts of our less than gifted team scatters when the lights shut off and spotlights blink on to find us sweating on the stage. When we hear the familiar beat of the drums, we yank our hands down in a synchronized fashion. With the yanking of our hands come a helium balloon strapped to each of our wrists.

Again, we copy each other in an eerily synchronized pattern as we pop the balloons with a pin and suck the helium into our heavy lungs. Students jump in their seats as the pops of the balloons deflating reverberates around the gym, but all gazes are solely focused on us in curiosity. And then we start singing in our little chipmunk voices.

"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS. NO TIME FOR LOSERS, CAUSE WE AAARE THE CHAMPIONS."

Lord knows how long we've been preparing for this. It took almost a month to convince our principal that this was necessary. You could tell how much we've worked on this by the steel determination glinting in our eyes, the sweat rolling off our foreheads, and our throats forcing out high pitched squeals of 'We are the Champions'. The performance only took four minutes, but the huge cheer following it was totally worth all the sweat, tears, and expensive bottles of water. I see the goofy grins of all the students and I smile softly in return. It takes some time to calm the students down so that they could go back to class, but by the end of it all, we are utterly exhausted.

Right before we all return to class, we are stopped by Mr. Franco, the drama teacher and main Mock Trial coach. He grins at each of us and gushes excitedly, "You guys were amazing! You didn't look nervous at all." I grin at this. He goes onto say, "Oh my god, I can't wait for your end of the year competition presentations!"

And then my exhilarating high is crushed by the reminder.
"Thanks," my squeaky voice deflates.

%%%%%

It's around four and I'm walking back to my house from the bus stop since dad is using my car today to get his fixed up. I groan under my breath as my ankle drags unsteadily along with my slumped figure. Of course I asked people to lend me a ride, but they said no, all of them obviously ignoring the poor handicapped girl with a twisted ankle. And so my gaze is fixed ahead to look for my house, hoping with all my might that my house will magically appear two blocks closer. I see a shadow nearing me, and I excitedly run towards it, pushing away the fact that it couldn't possibly be my house.

And my subconscious is right yet again as I crash into a chest. I knew I should've wore my glasses today. Damn my forgetfulness! I look up as I blink dazedly, rubbing my nose because it's now throbbing thanks to his damn marble chest. It's somebody from school that I can't remember the name of. He's the guy that hosts all those parties that Jason and his stupid ass best friend, Matthew, go to. I snap my fingers, trying to remember, "What's your face again?"

He cracks a charmingly stupid grin and mumbles, "Dave."

"Short for David?"

"Um, yea, sure."

His eyes dart around awkwardly and I just stare up at him. He's gotta be at least a foot taller than my 5'4 frame. I can see his nose hairs from down here. They're brown, just like the mop of his hair on his head. He's got brown eyes as well and would be more attractive if I couldn't see his nose hairs.

"So, um, you coming to my party tonight?"

For a guy with such a friendly and partyish reputation, he sure stutters a lot.

"Sure," I say, then I walk away abruptly.

%%%%%

It's nearly one in the night and I see Jason giggling in the corner of the crowded room and Sam dry heaving in the middle of the dance floor. I don't make an attempt to help them because frankly, they're just plain stupid. I feel a gush of warm air on the back of my neck as a grinning David comes from behind me. His eyes are lit up in delight as he sees the amount of drunk idiots destroying his home. I quirk an eyebrow up in confusion because shouldn't he be worried? Instead he's practically jumping on the balls of his feet in excitement.

"They're not really drunk, you know?" He whispers as if he's sharing a huge secret.

"What?"

"I've had at least twenty parties since senior year started, and not a drop of real alcohol has passed the entrance of this house. Not even my parents drink alcohol,"

"The hell?"

Suddenly two very pretty girls, identical in every way, appear in front of me. I rub my eyes in wonder. I hadn't had a drop of alcohol, but maybe I'd become intoxicated just by the smell.

"Dave, our brother, is absolutely obsessed with statistics and social experimentation," the slightly taller one says. We'll, I'm guessing they're twins.

He nods his head rapidly in agreement, "Since I was little actually. So, for every party I have, I just get fake alcohol. It has the same bitter taste, just no getting intoxicated. Then I study the outcome."

I gape at him in shock.

"So basically you're saying that half these people think they're drunk, and they're just acting on a belief?" He nods his head.

My eyes take in everything going on in the room, and I see the giggling Jason and burping Sam in a whole new light. They really are idiots.

How the hell am I supposed to do this effing project with them helping?

%%%%%

A/N: HEYYYYY OMG LONG TIME NO SEE BABIES! SO FRIKIN BUSY END OF SCHOOL YEAR AND ALL THAT ISH. So the story is slowly coming along, but if you don't understand anything, feel free to message me. I love writing this story, it's just so happy. Thank you SO much for reading. Please comment and vote, it would be much appreciated! THANK YOU LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

-ANN

XX