My Bully Girlfriend

Chapter 4: A Party

My phone ringed, its vibrations shaking the side table. I picked it up and groggily said into it: "Hello?"

Rebecca's voice was on the other line, cheery and very much awake. "You wanna go to a party?"

I rubbed my eyes and slid on my glasses. I veered myself into a sitting position and asked her,"What party?"

I have to admit I'm pretty excited about this party. The last event I was invited to was the Senior Citizen Fun Run 3 years ago. Other than seeing the really old ones fall asleep in the middle of the race, it wasn't much fun. Especially since the only food was glucose-free, sodium-free, taste-free glop. And it smelled like a musty old trunk.

"Uh...like any other party in the face of the universe?" She sounded like she couldn't believe I don't know what a party is. "You know. Drinks, minors, loud music. A party?"

"Oh." I'm not allowed to drink yet. Much less stay out for later than 8:30 at night. "When?" I tried to sound casual.

"Tonight," she said as if it wasn't big news. "I'll pick you up at 6."

"Rebecca..." I hesitated. "I don't think my parents would allow it." That was the stupidest response anyone could say. My very first grown-up party, and I'm not going because my curfew is 9 o' clock? It's only one party. I need to have a social life. I can imagine it now. A bust of me in bronze at some museum, with the plaque reading, THE NERD WHO GOT A SOCIAL LIFE. THIS LEGEND SHALL LIVE WITH US FOREVER.

“You gonna let that stop you? God, you're such a wimp. No offense,” she added.

“None taken,” I reply.

“Make an excuse. Do something. You have to go to the party.”

“I don't have anything to wear,” I say. My fingers interlocked nervously, afraid she can make a plan and I'd have to follow.

The line was silent for a while. She's thinking. “I'll buy you clothes.”

“Where will you get the money?” I have a terrible vision of her rummaging through drawers until she pulls out a glossy MasterCard. And I can't really imagine myself in something that jocks wear. I'd rather look out of place than look like I'm trying hard to be popular. A small part of me hope Rebecca didn't have enough money or the money was hard to get.

“Jus because I'm living with my grandma doesn't mean I don't get an allowance,” she said indignantly. I thought I heard her sneer.

“Okay. Um...can I go back to sleep? I'll call you in the morning.”

“Techincally, it's morning. I thought you were smart.”"'Good night Rebecca.” I put my phone down. The second my head rested on my pillow, I drifted off.

A faded ribbon of sunlight shone on my face, waking me up. I check the clock by my bed, squinting so the blurry numbers are in focus. 8 o' clock. I sat up and put my glasses on. A thought nagged in my mind, as if I'm supposed to be remembering something. I went out of my room and descended the stairs to eat breakfast. Mum was milling over the stove, the smell of sausages cooking wafting through the air. I plopped down into a chair and waited. A hand absentmindedly ran through my hair. Mum put down a plate of sausages and muffins in front of me. I ate without really tasting the food. Afterwards, I went to my room. My phone had 3 miscalls from Rebecca. I slapped my forehead. I forgot.

I punched in her number and waited. A few rings later, she greeted, "Good. I thought you were dead."

~~~~

By 6 o' clock in the evening, I have somewhat been allowed to go (mostly because I said we were working on a project to be passed next week). My outfit is stored in the trunk of Rebecca's car. I wondered why she didn't have an outfit for the party, and she said that she was already wearing it. It didn't look like much, compared to what she bought me. Then again always looks like she's about to go to a party.