CONSUME

[02] marry or kill

***

kameron springfield

The weekend rolled around, which meant the day that I've been somewhat looking forward to: Jake Hunter's Senior Celebration. Jake and his brother Tom Hunter are a couple of other popular students. Going to a school filled with rich kids whose parents are constantly out of town for business trips, means that they throw the wildest parties in their million dollar mansions. 

I'm not excluded from this group of people, since I live in the neighborhood too, and my dad is never around either due to his work. His work, and other reasons. 

Still, I'm grateful to live a comfortable life. The difference between myself and people like Jake Hunter though, is that they spend their money without a care in the world. My family is rich, but theirs are billionaires. So hosting parties in homes large enough to hold the entire grade in them is really the main thing that they do with their time. 

Yet I can't deny that I am a little bit excited for this party. I haven't been out in a while, so it might be fun to try and relax a little bit. After all, I think I do deserve a reward for making it all the way to my senior year of high school. Sure, I'm not the most thrilled about being surrounded by my classmates in a hotboxed living room with music loud enough to burst my ear drums, but as long as Noah is there, I don't think I'll be all to bothered. Besides, as I've established, it's not like I'm not familiar with everyone else there as well. I'm going to try my best to make the most of it. 

Sitting in the kitchen of my house, I took a sip of the ice cold glass of lemonade that's rested on the marble countertop, closing my mouth around the straw. The sound of ice rattling in the glass seemed to cue my mom. She entered the kitchen after climbing down the stairs. 

I crossed my legs, one over the other, shifting comfortably on the high bar stool. 

"Okay, this one," My mom held up an orange blouse in one hand, leaning it against her slim body. "Or this one?" In her other hand she had a yellow top slung from a metal hanger. She placed it against her torso and posed, giving me the illusion that she was actually wearing the shirt. 

"Hmmm," I pondered. "Probably yellow. The shape of it is better and I like the color more."

"Good choice. I was thinking that too." She looked down at the clothes as though she were still debating it, before nodding in acceptance and setting the clothes down on the countertop. "I'm a little nervous for this dinner tonight. I haven't been out with my friends in a while," She said. I nodded in sympathy, knowing that her social life has been hard on her lately. 

Then she leaned her elbows against the cold table and tilted towards me. She stared at my face in silence, and squinted her eyes. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Well, what about you? What are you wearing to this party tonight?"

"I don't know what I'm going to wear yet," I shook my head. "Maybe I'll just go like this." I motioned towards my current outfit. I had on a pair of sweat shorts and a black tank top. My long curly hair was in a loose ponytail and I had a few coils framing my cheekbones. 

"Ew, Kameron. You can't wear that." My mom responded. 

"'EW?' That's mean," I frowned. "I love these shorts."