My phone started vibrating just a few seconds before I took a sip of my Starbucks latté. I sighed and pulled it out of my jean pocket.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Kirsten, it's Hannah. What time does your party start tomorrow night, again?"
"Quarter to six. Did you lose your invitation again?"
"Yeah..." She moaned. I laughed of myself, Hannah's the most forgetful person I know, aside from my mom who forgets me in the supermarket whenever we go.
"I need to go run some errands. I'll text you later?" By errands, I meant finishing my creamy latté.
"Yeah, sure."
"Okay, bye." She hung up quickly, as if she was in a rush or something similar like that. I shrugged and adjusted my aviator sunglasses. I tried to fix my lopsided messy bun with no success whatsoever, and gave my regular barista, Chester, an extra large tip. He grinned and me and readjusted his scarf and hair as another customer entered the store. I stepped outside onto the sidewalk, yet I could still smell the lingering scent of coffee. After scouring the extremely full strip mall parking lot, I eventually found my silver Volvo. I've only had it for a day or two, yet I still can't find it in parking lots. I struggled with the key, but eventually my car unlocked. It wasn't rusted or anything, I guess I'm just really not used to cars, not to mention keyholes, yet.
YOU ARE READING
Party Crasher
Teen FictionA mysterious figure, a gun, and Kirsten. Kirsten, now 16, is celebrating her Sweet Sixteen party at an extremely well known nightclub. The hell on earth that soon follows, is all because of an uninvited guest.
