The Soccer Players Made Me Do It

2. A party?

I check myself in the mirror searching for stray flyaway hairs and making sure I look alright. Leaving my face bare except for some mascara and lip gloss, I believe I am ready to go. I pull at the hem of my top, not very comfortable in the crop top Sarah made me wear. If only the shirt were about an inch longer I would feel more comfortable. I sigh and shake my head. I gave Sarah permission to choose my outfit tonight and she didn't disappoint. I do look good in the floral crop top and high-waisted cutoff jean shorts. I drew the line on shoes though. I am going in my own comfortable flat converse. I am not touching her heels with a ten-foot pole. I would just end up falling and injuring myself or someone else.

I walk out the bathroom door to see Sarah is already primped and ready to go. Dressed in a cute, frilly, yellow dress and three-inch high heels Sarah is sitting on our couch with her purse in her lap. She looks at me and motions for me to turn around.

"Well go on turn around. I want to see how it looks!" She exclaims while I turn to show off her design. "You look amazing! I can't wait to go to this party! I still can't believe you are friends Tony Orsino. He is one of the hottest guys on the team or on campus in general!" She shakes her head at the apparently incredible feat to meet him, get his number and get invited to a party by him.

I told her everything that had happened as soon as I got home and told her she was coming with me tonight. Here we are a couple hours later and she still has a hard time believing it's true. I don't really like the implication it has on how she sees me. Am I that much of loner that it's hard to believe I have another friend? And apparently a popular friend is even more difficult to imagine.

It makes me feel like I need to get out more. It's like I am not really living life to the fullest and that I am being underestimated because of it. But I will show her and everyone else that doubts me that I can make friends and do something spontaneous every once and a while.

"You look gorgeous as always," I compliment her. "Now let's get this over with. It's already 7:45. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave." Well, there goes the whole spontaneous thing. I didn't even think about it but I inadvertently said something so predictably me it is ridiculous. Maybe I'll start being spontaneous after the party? Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.

We lock the door and then hop in my little, blue Volkswagen Beetle. I love this car. With the perfect shade of royal blue paint, I secretly call her my TARDIS. If only she really were a Time and Relative Dimension In Space machine disguised as a little car. Alas, my vehicle of transport is only a car and it is as little on the inside as it is on the outside. But, my baby gets me everywhere I need to go even if it might have a few quirky traits, like one window not rolling down and the engine making a weird noise when its starts. While others may call it a hunk of junk, I call it well-worn and just needs a little love.

We drive to the other side of the small college town to the address that Tony sent me. We pull up to a rather large looking house when the GPS says we have arrived. There are two pickup trucks, an SUV and a Jeep in front of the house. The trucks sit in front of the lawn and the SUV and Jeep sit in the driveway. I look around for any other signs of a typical college party. I see none. There isn't any loud music blasting or people milling around. I start to wonder if we are at the right place.

"Wow. This place is dead. Are you sure this is the right address?" Sara asks and turns in her passenger seat to face me. I pull out my phone and read my texts again.

"Yep. It's the right place," I tell her as I unbuckle and push open my door. Getting out, I slam my door shut and Sarah quickly does the same. I guess the only way to find out is to go up and knock on the door. I look up at the redbrick two-story house and see a large window with the curtains drawn on the second floor, directly over the garage. We walk up to the pristinely white front door and I take a second to prepare myself. Who knows what lies behind that door?