FUTILE DEVICES | clato

THREE

"So there's this party," Calico starts talking as soon as the final school bell of the day goes off.

"Mhm," I grumble, packing up my things and hastily shoving them into my bag.

"Yeah, it's at the Victor's Village, so you know it'll be good."

I scoff, "which victor is throwing a party now?"

Calico shrugs. "Does it matter? I'm going for the free alcohol."

She makes a fair point.

"Alright, I'll be there. Can you pick me up?"

That's a perk of being friends with Calico; she owns a car. It's not like I'm using her for her car, but it does make things a lot more convincing when I debate if I really want to be her friend or not.

"Yeah, does 7 work?"

I nod, and we part ways to go home. Sometimes she gives me a ride home from school, but most days I like to walk, especially when the weather is as nice as it is today.

-

Calico pulls up to my house at exactly 7. She's always perfectly on time.

"Where are you headed?" my mom asks me as I tread down the stairs to leave.

"Just going to dinner with Cal," I lie. She's gullible, and she believes me.

My dad gives me a side-eye from the dinner table. "Don't stay out too long. You know the consequences."

The "consequences" are just me being beaten until I can't breathe anymore.

"I know," I tell him.

After that, I quickly head out the front door and climb into the passenger seat of Calico's car. Next to me, she wears a bubblegum pink dress that contrast with her blonde hair.

"Cute outfit," I tell her, although it's not something I would ever be caught dead wearing. It's a miracle I even put on a dress tonight, even if it was just a simple olive green one that ended right above my knees.

"Thanks!" she chirps, starting the car and beginning the drive towards the Victor's Village.

Calico blasts some podcast on the radio while we drive. Music doesn't really exist in 2, so the only things we really listen to are podcasts.

Finally, we arrive at the gigantic houses of the Victor's Village. It's easy to tell which one is hosting the party, as it has cars lined up outside of it as far as the eye can see.

Parking the car, Calico and I both get out and walk towards the door. The smell of weed clogs my nose as soon as I make it inside.

I have to yell at Calico just to be heard over the blasting music. Parties are the one exception to 2's music "rule".

"Wanna drink?" I ask her.

She nods, and we find the kitchen. Two coolers of beer are open on the floor, but I reach for the vodka bottle and pour myself a cup, mixing it with a splash of cranberry juice. Calico does the same.

We walk through the house together, not speaking, just observing our surroundings. I've almost finished my drink when I see him.

Standing in the doorway, a beer bottle to his lips, is none other than Cato Hadley.

Just my luck to run into him.

Cato stands before me, his tall, muscular body towering over my measly 5'4 one. I have muscle, but I look like a rag doll next to Cato.

"You again?" he asks me, taking another swig of the alcohol in his hand.

"I was thinking the same thing."