The Meaning Games

2.Let the Games Begin

2.Let the Games Begin

Girls always looked skinner in the magazine, or at least Havana thought so. 

She stared at her frame in the length of the mirror. Her legs were small, her arms were thin and her ears didn't stick out. But all those things didn't matter to her because she couldn't tear her eyes away from her stomach. Her hips were a couple of inches wider that her friends, her body was shaped differently, but because of that she thought she had a weight problem. She didn't even realise that having curves were great.

Suddenly, a girl with black hair tinted with a soft red, stood behind her and frowned. She had her hands on her hips and looked irritated. "Are you going to stand there all night?

Havana sighed, looking away from the mirror as she pulled down her dress. "No."

"Good," Collins replied. She caught Havana's arm, and rubbed it encouragingly. "Don't listen to anything Avarie says, alright? You look great, by the way." 

"You don't have to listen to Avarie," Havana pointed out. Once, when they were a little younger, David Avenue, Havana's father, had to explain to her about Collins medical condition – an overactive thyroid – because Havana had become obsessed with trying to lose weight, as Collins had been dropping it off hourly. She was so embarrassed to learn this; she hadn't brought it up with her friends. But Collins openly talked about her condition. Often she had to bring it up to justify why she was pinching their food all the time.   

"And neither do you."

Havana didn't respond, she just scowled, hooking a belt over the top of her dress. She turned to look at her friend's outfit, noticing that the silver dress curved in all the right places and maximised her assets superbly. They were heading for Avarie's house, and when they got there, Collins would go off with her boyfriend, Holden Wakeman. Havana would be left alone. She wished her old friend Piran Lexington would go to the party, too, but he wasn't Avarie's friend, he wasn't their age, and it wasn't his style. He stayed at home, almost every night, working on his gaming software. Sometimes Havana couldn't get hold of him because he was so wrapped up in what was going on in the virtual world rather than a real one. A party was the least of his concerns and interests. 

"Are you ready yet?" Collins asked, putting some fancy earring in her ears. She moved her head side to side, watching as they sparkled in the artificial light. 

Havana glanced around her spacious bedroom. The walls were decorated in a baby pink colour, with a feature wall of a pastel green. Her bed had plain white covers with some quaint pink pillows. A desk was built into the corner next to the wardrobe. She had a side table, white, too, with a lamp and some books on it. An old laptop was at the foot of her bed, charging. She picked up her handbag from the floor, admiring it. Apparently, it was old. Shay had given the designer bag away after only two months, knowing Havana would appreciate it for longer. She had more money to save for college if she didn't save up months for a bag of her own. "Let's go."

As they walked down the creaky stairs, Havana looked in on her father who was asleep, upright and stiff, on a chair in the living room. Collins caught sight of where Havana was looking and a pitiful look crossed her face. "Double shift?"

Havana nodded solemnly. "Yes, and an early tomorrow." 

Collins walked on, frowning as she reached the door. She like David Avenue, he had always been nothing but kinds to all of them. He didn't work so much before, and had more time to continue his art of carpentry. He made all the chairs, and the dining room table of their house. Whenever Havana had invited Avarie and her friends around for dinner, they would sit on a chair each that had been christened with their name and eat cookie he'd prepared for them. They were never the same cookies, either. Collins would get a brownie, Havana would get a cookie, Avarie would get gingerbread, Jordan would get a biscuit and Shay, well, she always requested a gingerbread biscuit, too. Those were the better days, when Havana wasn't aware of all the problems, when David didn't have to compete with rising prices of living, when life was simpler. Even when Havana was friends with Jacob, and not Avarie, nothing seemed to go wrong.