Rear View Mirror

4.1 - Vodka Cranberries

I obviously take up Jenna's offer once the initial shock from the bedazzled shorts wears off, I'm not an idiot. As per, the drive home's pretty nice. My car's like a shit version of a convertible because it has a T-top, and the roof does come down, even if this Japanese shitbox sports car is a far cry from a cabriolet. The sky's that rich shade of warm blue it only goes in summer, the trees overhead are a vibrant green even though all the grass is going brown, and it's good. Not a bad night for a party at somebody's friend's sister's house, eh?

As soon as I get home, I say a very brief hello to my mum who is lying on the couch with her hand stuck in a bag of chips, and I pull up Facebook on my computer. I find Will's profile, and I immediately feel myself squint at his display photo which is just him lying suggestively sideways atop a grand piano.

Okay, that's normal.

Choosing to ignore the brunet Will staring back at me, I write him a message asking for the flat address. He opens it instantly, and his response is blunt - are u driving lol?.

I stare at the screen for a second, still in my work clothes, before typing back, Yeah?. His next response dings through - what??? are u not drinking??.

At this point I'm already resigned to a night of sobriety, and I'm halfway through telling him this when his next message comes up. It reads, park ur car at mine and then u can get on the piss!!!! :)).

Obviously I'm 16 and started work at 8am, so this is more than enough persuasion for me. I send back Ok sick lol, and he sends me his address, and it's only at this point that I hesitate. I know where he lives, and as it turns out, I've been cycling past his expensive house in his expensive neighbourhood for the past few months. Cool. Fine.

I get changed and swipe my keys and my phone from my desk and throw open my bedroom door, heading on out through the hallway.

"I'm going out," I say, and Mum glances up from today's episode of Grey's Anatomy.

"To the gym?" She asks.

"Sure," I say. She's grinning at this, probably because she's already wasted her energy parenting her first child that turned out shit anyway.

"Don't get pregnant while you're at the gym," she says to the TV.

"That joke's still not funny," I inform her, my hand on the door handle.

"How about don't drive drunk?" She offers.

"Sounds good," I tell her. "Don't miss me too much."

"I won't, I've got McDreamy," Mum says pointing the remote at the screen, and that's my cue to leave.

Will's neighbourhood is exactly what I knew it was. It's all four bedroom, six bathroom, 10 car garages on hilltop sections with lake views and paved driveways. I think he's an only child, too. Jesus.

But still, as I'm driving up his street, it's a relief that Will found me at work, and it's even better that he invited me to that party. I could really do with solidifying some ties between me and the rugby guys if I plan on not getting my head smashed in, because sooner or later, they will start making those weird comments about me to my face. I'd prefer it if we were all on friendly terms when it inevitably hits.

That's actually something I've been thinking about, and I reckon there is an elaborate lie I can create that might solve everything. Here's my plan - I am going to create problems that are bad, but still better than my reality. Allow me to elaborate.

I was at work yesterday, and I kept thinking about last year when this guy in a lot of my classes, Daniel, got on the mixed grade basketball team instead of the actually good team. It was big news at the time - the mixed grade team was, well, shit, and he was actually a really good player. Maybe he'd just been having a bad day when it came to the tryouts, or maybe the coach didn't like him, but yeah, that's where he ended up.