Kismet

Chapter Twelve

   "No boys, no drinking, stay by or near the house at all times, call us when you get there and when you leave, and be home at eleven or else."

   I nod slowly as I listen to my instructions for the party. Mom and Dad stand in front of me. Two different expressions are on both of them. Mom's is mom-happiness and her eyes are shining as she looks at me. Dad, on the other hand, is stern and arms are crossed. He raises an eyebrow at me.

   "I got it, Dad," I tell him. "I understand."

   His eyes narrow in concern. "Kiara. . .  are you sure you want to go?"

   I sigh, and say to myself in my head, No. But out loud, I say, "Yes. I'm already dressed and I told Ethan I would go. I don't want them to come all the way here for nothing."

   He had texted me first earlier, asked if I was still coming. I said yes, and he said he and Danny will be there in ten minutes. That was when I was finishing curling my hair.

   Do not even get me started on that. Curling your hair. Mom suggested to do tiny delicate curls, so I did. I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I burned my fingers two times, messed up countless times, and took me and hour to do. Now it hung in a curly pattern over my shoulders. I definitely wasn't going to do this every day for school. Straight and flat it is for me- no burning objects near my head again.

   "You look beautiful, Kiara," Mom gushes again. Chris pushes between my parents to gaze at me. He runs his eyes up and down, raising an eyebrow that suggests I look like crap.

   "Uh. . ." Chris says. "What happened to you?" 

   Mom answers that one for me.

   "She got fancied up, Chris. Something you should do someday." She looks pointedly at his messy hair and dirty clothes.

   He shakes his head in horror. "I'm not curling my hair."

   I laugh. "You don't have any hair to curl, idiot. And what Mom means is that you should actually brush your hair and put on clean clothes. Every day: not once every three days."

   Purposely rebelling, he shakes his hair more. "No." He brushes past Dad and runs up the stairs quickly. Just as he hits the top step, the doorbell rings. A shiver runs down my back as I turn, putting my hand on the knob slowly. I swing the door open to see Ethan standing there, looking down at me. Chris stops, and looks back down the stairs.

   Ethan smiles crookedly down at me, then looks at my parents behind me. "Good evening, Mrs. and Mr. Barton. Me and a few of my friends are going to the party tonight, and Kiara will hang out with us." He flashes them a smile. I turn hopefully towards them.

   "Hello, Ethan," Dad smiles, nodding. "We trust you and Kiara to be responsible."

   "Bye!" I say, starting to walk out the door. Ethan has to back up to not run into me.

   "Call us!" Mom adds.

   "Be home at eleven!" Dad calls out, right before I shut the door. I turn back to Ethan, and breath a small smile. I wipe my hair out of my eyes and look up at him.

   "So?" I say. "Shall we?" I smile, and he just sits there, wavering. There was a distant look in his eyes. He suddenly regains his composer with a snap, and he shakes his head.

   "Uh, yeah," he stammers. "Let's go." He waits for me to walk down the steps, and I do it quickly in my flat Mary Janes. There was no way I was going to this in high heels. There was no way I was going to anything in heels. No way.

   There waits Danny's crappy car, with him in the front with a hand on the wheel. "Hurry it up, you two! Stop cooing over each other. We have a damn party to get to!"