My Almost Best Friend

Chapter 32

Chapter 32:

My dress is on, my hair is curled-ish, its sloppily pinned back, my old faded silver sandals are on, and my purse is at my side.

Let's get this banquet over with.

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Trevor pulls up at a quarter to 6, just like he said he would.

I get in the car and don't hide my unenthusiastic face.

"Too much cologne?" He asks, sniffing himself.

I point to the clock. "Would it have killed you to get a flat tire or something on the way here?"

He laughs pulling out of my driveway and onto my street.

"It's not going to be that bad," he reassures me.

"Oh not at all," I say, mimicking his positive attitude. "There will be light servings of health slush on a plate, some old iPod dock playing Little Einsteins symphony on repeat, Oh, and don't forget about the Principal right across the table. Wasn't his thyroid surgery last week? Oh yum, we get to listen to him talk school politics and relearn to swallow. You're right, this night will be one for the books!"

Trevor shakes his head and laughs at what I've just said. But I'm serious.

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"I'll just say I'm not feeling well," I try to convince Trevor as he walks with me inside the school.

School when it's almost dark should be outlawed.

"Bree!" Claire calls to me from the end of the hall.

I walk up to her, where she and her date are standing awfully close, and as he turns around, I realize it's Mike.

"Hi Mike!" I say in the fakest nice voice I've had to use.

He clears his throat, "Bree."

How nice for Claire that Amarys couldn't make it. She gets her boyfriend all to herself.

"What about that kid from Willis High?" I ask Claire.

"Family emergency came up," she says pitifully.

How convenient for you.

"Gosh darnit," I say. "At least you have each other for back-up then."

I smile and me and Trevor continue to walk.

Summer is already seated at the table's end, by some random guy with dark hair and eyes.

Apparently Summer hasn't quite gotten over the fact that Brian dumped her, because the looks miserable.

Her tight red dress is wrinkled in her waist in a way that she normally wouldn't be caught dead in, and her thin blond hair splits along the part, falling unevenly to her shoulders.

She sits quietly with her arms crossed, and hangs her head like a lost puppy.

Francesca is here too, but is dateless.
She looks really pretty though nonetheless, and it's actually surprising to see her next to an empty chair.

"Hey Francesca!" I say, sitting across from her.

"Hi Bree!" She says nicely.

"Couldn't find a date, huh?" Claire's voice snaps from behind me as she enters the room.

Francesca blushes, embarrassed. "He's just running late."

"Sure he is," Claire mutters under her breath.