“Oh, darling, you’ll stop traffic,” Erika purred, rubbing her hands together. “If Adam didn’t regret dumping you last week, the minute he sees you walk through that door he will.” I squirmed uncomfortably in the short, tight red dress. Erika flashed me one of her signature half-smiles and held her finger up, signaling me to hold still as she ran out of the closet and into the hallway. “Rachael, get your ass in here! Come and see how absolutely amazing Luna looks,”
Rachael poked her head in the doorway, still dripping from her shower, and smiled encouragingly as Erika brushed past her with a satisfied look on her face. “You look great, Luna. But whatever Erika did to convince you to get in that dress, I don’t wanna know,” She laughed and walked back to the bathroom, announcing that she still had to dry her hair, while Erika followed her, complaining that all the hot water was probably gone; leaving me alone with my thoughts and the dress that barely kept my cheeks covered.
I knew they were trying to be good friends, helping me rebound and get over my boyfriend of two years, but I was surprisingly okay. I wasn’t thinking about Adam, I was only thinking about college in the fall and moving on with my life and moving out of this town. And I don’t think I would be able to after tonight, considering my dress gave off the idea that I was open for business and a fetus. I wiggled out of the dress and folded it neatly on the floor and began to look for something, anything that at least went past my ass. As I was peeling through Erika’s closet, a feeling of discontent settled in my stomach and like clockwork, my vision was clouded by a bright, white light.
I steadied myself on her closet door until it passed, and rubbed my eyes. For the past few days, at exactly 5:03 and 9:47, I would black out for a few seconds without an apparent reason, which kind of scared the shit out of me, but I wasn’t about to induce my mother’s impending heart attack (me and my dad were taking bets) over nothing. Ignoring it once again, I continued my search for an outfit.
“Um, excuse you. What do you think you’re doing?” Erika asked, her voice rising an octave with every syllable that popped off her tongue. “Why did you take that dress off?”
“Just exploring my options,” I replied nonchalantly with a small smile forming, watching her face flush to the fabric of the dress as she clenched it in her hands and began to go on a very theatrical tirade about how she was improving my sexual vibe and how she was much underappreciated for all the work she tried to do and that I’d regret my decision someday while she angrily tore through her closet to find something else. I ended up wearing the dress anyways.
* * *
“And what time will you go back to Erika’s house?” My mom asked, an egg beater clanking against a glass bowl in the background. She always was baking; she did it especially when she was nervous. When my dad had his appendix removed years ago she made over 200 cupcakes, which was exciting as a particularly grubby six year old but now every time I see a cupcake I want to vomit profusely.
“It’s just a party. I’ve gone to party before y’know.” I pointed out, balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder as I swatted Rachael for trying to paint her toenails while she drove. “We’ll probably go back to her house around two, which is okay. Because I’m an adult. Legally.”
“I know Luna, I know. But this party is at a club, downtown. And you know how crazy downtown can be, especially after hours.” She said, her voice low.
“It’s Newark, New Jersey, mom. Not the Red Light District.”
She stifled a laugh while opening and closing a cupboard. “I just worry about you, I’m your mother. It’s a part of the job requirement, no matter how grown up you are I’m always going to worry about you.”
“Well, try to focus on something else for the night, alright? I’ll be fine, I’m with Erika and Rachael and all of our friends will be at the party,” Erika motioned towards the upcoming parking lot near the club we were going to, motioning for me to get off the phone. “Which we are currently pulling into, so I kind of have to go...” I trailed off, praying she took the hint.
“Maybe you could just come home earlier, for safer measures? I’m making chocolate chip cookies, your favorite! If you leave now you could-”
“Mom.”
“Sorry,” She sighed. “Be careful, I love you.” I quickly hit the ‘end call’ button before she changed her mind and offered to bake a lemon meringue pie with me.
“Jesus Christ that was the lengthiest phone call ever, is she still worried about you going to this party? How old does she think you are?” Erika huffed, flipping down the sun visor to check her makeup in the mirror. She strived to become a stylist, and she definitely fit the part, look and attitude wise. Her bright red lipstick made her pouty lips pop and her smoky eye shadow brought out the dark flecks of grey in her pale blue orbs, while her short, black bob was teased to utter perfection. Rachael shot Erika a dirty look as she pulled into a narrow parking space and pulled her keys out of the ignition with one hand while running her fingers over her pin straight blonde hair. “Why did you look at me like that? I was just asking her a question.”
“She’s just afraid I’ll become a meth addict and end up in a sewer somewhere in Brooklyn.” I smirked, absently checking my phone to make sure there weren’t any frantic text messages from her. Rachael snorted as she slipped the bright pink nail polish she was using back into her purse. “You know how moms can get; she’s just a head above the rest. Let’s go, we’re already forty minutes late and I don’t want Yvonne throwing a bitch fit and throwing us out when she finds out why we’re late.”
I climbed out of Rachael’s Civic and tried to inch the hem of my dress down to the middle of my thighs to no avail. Erika had wanted me to go without any underwear, but thankfully Rachael backed up my protests. The two of them were already ahead of me, bickering about the extra time spent at the gas station while walking as fast as they could in six inch heels. I could hear Erika yelling for me to hurry up; the one road that separated the club and the lot was always busy, especially with people heading home from other bars or parties. Giving my dress one final tug, I hurried to catch up with them when I felt my phone buzzing over and over again in my purse.
Standing on the opposite side of the road, I waved at my friends to head over to the party without me. Rachael folds her arms and shakes her head, but Erika rolls her eyes and grabs her arm, flashing me a dimpled smile before they both disappear. I groan as I rummage through my bag, irritated by the constant vibration that was most likely my mother having a panic attack. As I pull my phone out, I have two missed phone calls from an unidentified number and four blank text messages from the same address.
“Are you kidding me?” I mutter, shoving my phone back into the depths of my purse when the shrill sounds of car horns and shrieks of metal ring out in the air, accompanied by a horrendous scream. As I look up from my bag, everything begins to move in slow motion. A black sports car, one that my dad always wanted, slams into a sickeningly yellow taxi and at a dangerously high speed continues to lose control in the lanes of traffic. The realization that the car is barreling towards me doesn’t happen in time for me to move, instead I stand in a prism of warped time unable to do anything but watch.
The last thing I see before the dazzlingly white glow of the headlights cloud my vision is a large digital clock's numbers imbedding themselves in me forever; 9:47.
