The Dinner Party

Can't Get a Word In

I sprinted toward Beckham. As much as I would love for Delphia to be out of all of our lives I know Beckham is just overreacting. He isn’t a killer. We walked far and it takes me a little to catch up. I put my hard on his shoulder and pull him back.

                “What? This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Beckham asks harshly.

                “No, this isn’t. I don’t want to lose you Beckham.” I say.

                “Why do you care about me? Jasper is the one you are in love with.”

                “How… how did you…”

                “Know? Oh I see the way you look at him. It’s the same way I look at you.”

                “Excuse me?”

                At that exact moment a car pulls up next to us. The car window rolls down and a voice from inside calls out to us.

                “Guys get in!”

                I would know that voice anywhere. It’s Zahara.

                “We will talk about this later.” Beckham glares at me and open the car door.

                I slide in the car after him. Zahara turns back to us and smiles. For the first time in a while, I feel relaxed. Zahara is one of those people who can light up a room by just being there.

                “That looked intense out there guys. What was going on?” Zahara asks.

                “Well Beckh-” I start.

                “It’s nothing.” Beckham interrupts.

                “You guys want to go get some pizza?” Zahara asks.

                “Uh… What are you even doing her-” I begin to ask.

                “Yes. Let’s go.” Beckham says.

                I glare at him but he keeps looking forward. Zahara turns back around and starts the car up again. The whole ride there Zahara explains to us why she’s here. Apparently there was a huge pipe leak at the school and it had to be closed for a while. Zahara, being the protective friend she is, wanted to make sure I was safe. How did she find me? Well I guess, a while back, she put a tracking device on my car because I was always skipping town on my dinner parties. Part of me finds this super creepy but another part of me finds this sweet. It’s like she really cares about me.

                We eventually pull into a pizza place and go inside. We all order and sit in a booth. Zahara and I sit next to each other and Beckham sits directly across from Zahara. The place has a retro style to it. Old posters cover the walls. One of them catches my eye. It is one of a little girl is a pale blue dress. Her hair is long and brown. She looks just as if she is staring at me and honestly it’s a bit creepy. But it reminds me of something. It reminds me of the dress Zahara tried to get me to wear when we were little and playing dress up at her house…

                “Oh Darci you have to try this one on, you will look so cute!” Zahara said handing me a blue satin dress.

                The material of the dress was so thin and silky it just about slipped through my fingers. I held on tight afraid that it would fall to the floor and suddenly vanish. I looked at the tag of the back of the dress. Of course it was a small. Zahara is ten times smaller than I am yet believes that we will fit in the same clothes.

A wave of unbearable insecurity washes over me. Even though Zahara always tells me I am pretty I can’t bring myself to believe it. I drop down onto my knees and look up to Zahara with one single tear coursing down my pale cheek. Just looking at Zahara makes me jealous. She is so clueless as to how I feel inside. If only she could take a moment to ask me why I feel the way I do. Maybe she would understand; but I don’t know if I could even put into words how I feel about myself.

                Just then I hear a giggle come from next to me. I shift my gaze toward the window. Delphia. I rub my eyes. I can’t tell if I'm seeing things. She can’t be here, not now. She smiles down at me like a murder does before they kill you. I close my eyes and try to clear my head. Maybe if I try hard enough she will just disappear.

                “You can’t just wish away all your problems Darci, you can close your eyes but I'm still here. And so are you. It will take a lot more than wishing to take away what your mother gave birth to nine years ago.”

                I shake my head. Delphia is gone. Her voice was in my head but not really thee. How can she have so much effect and power over me?...

                I feel a hand on my shoulder and I am brought back to reality.

                “Are you okay?” Zahara says to me.

                I stand up from the booth silently and head towards the door. Maybe some fresh air will cool me down. When I open the door the tiny annoying bell rang right in my ear. As soon as I step outside, thick, hot rain drenches me. So much for fresh air. I take a look around. Other than the pounding of rain its almost silent outside. The parking lot ends only a few feet from me and then goes into the woods for miles. I close my eyes and try to remember what had happened earlier that day before I had went to play dress up with Zahara.  It was Valentine ’s Day and everyone was required to bring in cards for each student.

                I had made careless cards for the class and so had Beckham. But when he went and passed his out he handed me a card that was a lot nicer than the rest. I opened it up and read it too myself.

                Darci,

I like you.

                -Beckham

                A bell rings behind me and I turn to see Beckham heading toward me from the pizza place. He looks so angry. I'm really not surprised though. He interrupted me the whole car ride so I'm assuming he is angry at me for some reason. He just reaches me and opens his mouth to talk but I stop him.

“No, it’s my turn to talk,” I begin, “Why have you been interrupting me this whole night? I let you ride with me to Ohio to have a safe dinner party, not to be lectured about my attitude towards Delphia. Did it ever occur to you, ever for a second that I have feelings? Do you think I enjoy it when Delphia pushes me around? You think I just let her do it because it’s fun? Well news flash, I don’t. Some days she makes me want to rip her throat out, but that’s not who I am. Stop trying to act like you know what it best for me-”

                But before I can get another word out, I'm once again, I am interrupted. But this time it’s not Beckham hammering me. This time it isn’t him telling me what to do. Or telling me I should just kill Delphia. This time Beckham doesn’t yell at me. This time, Beckham kisses me.