Paperboy. (h.s. au)

17.

"See you at 6." I hang up the phone with Victoria and let out a heavy sigh. The party is tonight and I'm not looking forward to it.I know, I know, it's shocking.

I had about as much experience with parties as I did with athletics. Just like sports, I've almost stuck with the idea of going to a party, but I've never followed through, thank goodness. How could I possibly survive a whole night full of socializing? Dear me, what a crazy idea.

I had always thought that I should, at least once, experience one. But now that I'm actually getting ready to really attend an actual party with actual people, I already know that it's not for me. Alas, here I go.

It's 4:00 now, and Victoria insists I need two whole hours to get ready, which is wrong on a number of levels. I need about twenty minutes- if that. She had instructed me on what to wear; something "Suggestive but not slutty." What in the world does that mean? Does she not know me? Does she not know that my wardrobe consists of t-shirts and jeans? I push that aside for now.

She also told me to make my hair "dangerous looking." I'm not too sure how hair could look dangerous, but with my frizzy ringlets and waves, this won't be a problem, so I don't do anything to it. I do put on a little bit of makeup, however. Only a little bit. Some foundation and mascara. That's all I have, really. I'm not too adventurous that way. Or any way.

When I'm done at my attempt with makeup, I sit on my bed and stare at my tiny closet. I have no idea what to wear. "Mom!"

Immediately, my mother comes to my room with a curious look on her face. "You getting ready?" She sees my pajamas and undone hair and then asks, "Why aren't you dressed?"

"Mom, I have two hours. I'm not getting dressed now. But, I need your help getting something to wear. I have no options," I huff and look at my tiny closet.

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "You have plenty of clothes Robin. Don't tell me that." She then begins rummaging through my closet, tossing various shirts and shorts my way.

"Don't throw stuff, I just want you to tell me what to wear. Please don't make a mess." She has this terrible habit of making a mess in my room and then assuming it's mine when she's done.

My phone buzzes and it's Harry. I quickly open the message with a smile on my face.

how excited are you

A widen my eyes in humor and hang my head, typing up a response.

oh, im just bursting with excitement. you?

SO EXCITED. His reply comes within seconds and I smile.

I put my phone to the side and look up to my mom, who's smirking down at me. "Harry?" Apparently she saw the small exchange and it's effects on my face.

"Yes, mom." I quickly end that conversation. "What do you have for me?" She's holding up two shirts and a pair of shorts.

"I'm so happy you're going out tonight. I feel like you're really making progress, hun." My eyes shift to the floor. Why does progress have to be putting myself into uncomfortable situations?

Just to humor her, I say, "Thanks mom." She smiles contently, nods, and leaves my room with an accomplished look on her face.

I do feel a lot happier lately. Its all definitely still there but it's not constantly looming over me like a huge cloud as often. I hadn't really noticed how better I've felt recently until my mom brought it up now. This makes me happy in and of itself. Suddenly, the idea of a party doesn't seem too bad anymore.