Bull-shit, I Don't Do Love

Chapter 13 - In which a party is attended.

I honestly couldn't tell you what happened the rest of the night. I was so focused on not focusing on a certain dark eyed danger. I think Britt and I made dinner, but we could've just as well burned down the house.

Beep! Beep! Beelooop.

I awoke to the beautifully terrible sound of my alarm clock. So I, as anyone would've done in my situation, grabbed the little box of death, and chucked it across the room. It hit my bedroom door with a pleasant thud.

Brittany burst into the room, hair sticking up in every direction, a plunger in her hand. "What happened?"

I, still half-asleep, asked, "There's not a toilet in here!"

Brittany stared at me for a long moment. "What?"

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind. "What?"

Brittany's mouth stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. "Huh?"

Our conversation was getting exciting.

"What're you doing?"

"Stopping a burglar," she spoke as if it was the only obvious explanation.

"What were you going to do to him? Plunge him to death? Give him a swirly?"

She dropped the plunger on the floor, as if just realizing that she'd been holding it. "You're ugly."

I barked out a laugh as she left my room. "You left your plunger!"

Several very ugly words were heard coming from the hallway. With another laugh, I got out of bed and headed down stairs.

---

Britt and I spend the first part of the day chilling on the couch, watching movies, eating cereal and debating which movie star was hottest and what the best method of kidnapping was.

Around four, I decided I should probably get off my butt and start getting ready. Angela was picking me up at five-thirty and I had a habit of always been late.

I showered, styled my hair and slipped into a dark pair of jeans. Brittany came into my room as I was going through my closet, looking for a shirt. "What're you going wear?"

"I dunno."

"Wear something blue."

I glanced at my closet, of which a majority of my clothes were blue. "Helpful."

"You gonna where heals?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What if I have to walk around? Or run from a rapist?"

She considered this and nodded. "So, when's our ride coming?"

"Our ride?"

"I'm coming."

I laughed. "Good joke. You're not coming. And before you argue, it's because of numerous reasons I don't want to explain."

Brittany pouted, but I knew she'd already known she wasn't going. She was still in her PJs and her hair was thrown up into a high ponytail. "You look cute."

She threw a discarded shirt at me, "Better than you."

I looked down at myself. I'd always hated the way my stomach wasn't perfectly straight and that my hips were wider than most. I shook my head and grabbed for a dark blue cardigan. I put a black tank top on and the cardigan over it.

Brittany stayed in my room and watched me put on my make-up. She asked me if I knew anyone at the party and what was going to happen. When I didn't have any solid answers, she proceeded to steal my iPod and take pictures of herself on it.