The Necklace

Chapter One

If there is one thing you should know about me, it would be this:

I don't do the whole "happy-ending-yay!-childhood¨ kind of story where the main character "dies" but inevitably comes back to life and it's all happy-happy-fun-fun, tears-of-joy. NO. Reality check; life is not like that. This isn't a Disney movie. Whether you choose to accept that or not is your prerogative, but I don't want to be one of those people who spend their whole life lying to themselves, ya know? Once you're dead, you're dead. No backsies. Sorry... (not sorry).

It's only a few weeks before the start of university and I am totally ready for it.

Lie.

I am petrified. It's not exactly a pleasant thought to transition from my small-town, barely bourgeois family to go to my completely unfamiliar, absurdly prodigious university where the immense population is completely foreign to me. It doesn't help that the students are insidiously narcissistic, bravado, and rather capricious, which overwhelms me with a vigorous sense of beautiful malaise, probably caused from my crap-tastic feeling of angst.

I feel an uncomfortable vibrating sensation in my left shoe. So I put my phone in my shoe. It goes vertically along my ankle. Hopefully, it will never go under my foot. Come on. I'm not that stupid.

I click on my phone, the light of the touch-screen reflecting off my cornea, slowly melting my vision away, much like that of microwaved butter. To the right of the message icon is the name of Nico, my best friend.

"Hey, chica! Do you want to go out with me and Jason?" [Jason is Nico's boyfriend. Nice guy, nice guy.] Yay. Time to be a third wheel again. I. Am. So. Excited...

"We were planning on setting you up with this really cute guy named Joey. You'd really love him." Yep. I am super excited.

I clicked on the response text quotation.

"Yeah, Nico. I am not totally sure about that. I mean, I would love to hang with you and Jay," I type, "but I feel like you are setting me up for an amazingly awkward situation, and not just me but Joey, too." And SEND.

We are waiting. And we are waiting. I can feel my diaphragm expanding and restricting to my slow, rhythmic breathing. I check the ever-passing illusion of time. Message sent at 4:47. Seen at 4:48. It's now 4:53. Five minutes. Finally, the typing word bubble pops up on my screen. Took you long e-freakin-nough. God, Nico. I hear the pa-ding that was made by my phone which indicated that he replied to my previous message. Woop.

"Aww, come on, girl. I will give you a 'Nico Will do Anything' coupon. " I ponder the possible rewards that I could reap with said redeemable coupon. Hmmm...

"Ok," I reply. "Fine." Queue typing bubble in 3...2...1... Pa-ding!

"Yes! You wont regret this boyfriend. I promise. Get out your classy-trashy," [extra emPHASis on the clasSAY-traSHAY], "faded denim skirt, yellow-beige tank, and denim crop jacket trio, chica. Remember the number one rule." Haha. Scoff...

"I know, dude," I type, "Always Accessorize." S...e...n...d... Wow. Still loading? God. It feels like I pressed send, like, two minutes ago. Oh. Only three seconds ago? Huh. Yeah, right. Pa... Ding...

¨We will be pick you up in, like, 5ish minutes, chica. See you Soon! You best be ready. Also, we wi-¨ Nope. I am turning off my phone. I will get back to you. Eventually...

I sluggishly sulk over to my closet from the comfort of my beautifully decorated bed, to pick out my outfit. Yippie.

Oh my GOD!!! MORE VIBRATIONS!!!!!! Stop texting me every forty-five seconds, Nico! I click the power button on my phone to check the notification: