Dani is a psychic medium and witch, giving her the ability to talk to spirits and ghosts. When an eccentric new family moves to her small town of Silverwick, she finds herself caught up with their mysterious son, Neil, and she's thrown into the worl...
The next day drags on like a cheap drive-in horror movie. Considering I'm at work every waking second of the week, the weekend is my only real downtime. You'd think I'd fill that time with Netflix shows or practicing a new recipe from my favorite cooking show like a 'normal' person, but no.
I fill it with hours of cleaning. It's not that I have OCD but rather ADHD. At least that's what my 5th grade school counselor told my wide-eyed mother when it was observed by my science teacher that I couldn't seem to sit still and shoved my work papers into my bag with no folders.
Cleaning clears my head, keeps me organized and it's an escape after a long week. I love the feeling of being in my own little bubble that no one else can pop.
No one except for Monica, of course. I roll my eyes and blow a strand of hair out of my eyes as I reach for my chirping phone on the coffee table.
"Yes your highness?" I answer a bit sarcastically.
"Oh I'm sorry, am I interrupting your precious cleaning time?" Monica questions. Her voice is the sound of pretty pink ballet bows, with something wicked laced underneath.
"What do you want, Monica?" I ask Wearily.
"I just wanted to make sure you're getting ready for the drive-in party. You-know-who will be there and I wouldn't want to be caught dead with those dark circles and thrift store sweatshirt you sported last weekend," she responded cheerily. We really just say what's on our mind in this friendship- just lay it all out on the table.
Before that point I had almost completely forgotten about the party. A part of me had thought that if I pushed it far enough back in my mind I could somehow will it to vanish from my calendar.
"Oh shit," I mumbled.
"What was that? Please don't tell me you haven't started getting ready," Monica groans.
"Doing my hair now." I lie and hang up.
As much as I want to be the type of person who doesn't care what she looks like around her ex, I'm not her. I remember what Monica said about my dark circles and decide not to skip concealer today, though I normally don't hate my dark circles.
Little memories flash through my head as I line my eyes with dark liner and apply my lashes. Rae holding the umbrella over us as we ran to his car in the rain. Rae pulling a blanket out of the backseat once we got in and wrapping it tightly around my shoulders. Rae kissing me until I was no longer cold but warm and comfy instead.
I shake my head, reminding myself of the time. Once I practically tear my closet to shreds I finally find the baby Tee I was looking for with the words "Dump Him." On the front in bright red lettering. I laugh at my own joke. I love making people talk. I think to myself as I get into Monica's car.
"You can't be serious." Monica says fighting back a laugh.
"Drive." Is all I say in response, I can feel a smirk pulling at the corners of my lips.
Monica rolls her eyes and says "you're too much." but pulls away from my house. Sometimes I wonder if she likes my drama- causing ways because she craves chaos just as much as I do.
By the time we arrive late to the party the movie has already started. Blankets, beach towels and lawn chairs are spread across the lot. There must be at least 50 alumni from our old high school here and that was only a quarter of the attendees. The other people's faces were unfamiliar, vague, unmemorable.
The social butterfly that she is, Monica leads us over to the birthday girl, Riley Owens, standing near a snack and drink table. Riley's parents own the drive- in and have hosted these parties for her ever since we were 9. They kiss eachother's cheeks and ramble on about the party and about some guy.
I would have heard the rest of their conversation but I'm more focused on the movie on the screen. Two people with cuts, dirt and tears on their faces kiss before one of them gets on a ship and sails away. This is what happens when you show up to a movie late, nothing makes sense.
I jump a foot away when I feel a hand come down on my shoulder.
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