Lawson Daily (Neymar da Silva)------>
By 5:15pm I was beat. Lawson was really the devil re-incarnated. He wouldn’t let me get water until I completed an exercise, even if I was about to fatally pass out. (I think he would even Mortal Kombat finish me if it was legal)
“Okay,” Lawson said when I regained consciousness after running, crunching, cursing, and puking. “There is a party tonight at Logan’s house. I’m invited, and you’re going with me.”
“Umm…how about no,” I yelled at him. “You know Logan and I have history together. Why would I go?” he knew this. Was he just playing with my mind? “Plus, I’m not one of you popular people. I don’t have those…qualities.”
“Oh shut the hell up!” Lawson said sternly. “Listen to me Remy. You and I have been friends for about 4 years now. I think I know you better than you know yourself. Which means, I know that you know that I know that you want to go to that party tonight,” that was Lawson; Trying to convince me that I want to go to a party that I don’t want to go to.
“No!” I exclaimed standing up. “I am not going to that party with those people.”
“On your list, number 34 or something, you said that by senior year you want to be known for something am I right?” He said putting on his best ‘concerned brother’ look that made me laugh.
“Yes. And not for being that girl who tried so hard to become popular she ruined her whole high school rep,” I said suppressing a giggle. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about a party; how to act, what to do, what to wear, it’s all foreign to me.”
Lawson grabbed my shoulders gently, looked at me softly, then shook me like a baby bottle pop. “Get out of all the negative! What if someone see you in tonight and decides that you should be the next Robin!”
“Okay! Okay! Fine Son,” I said pushing him away from me. “I’ll go!”
“Yayy!” Lawson jumped up.
“I swear if I didn’t know you any better I would think you’re gay,” I said walking to his car so he can take me home.
“Remy,” he said sliding in the driver seat. “Nobody thinks I’m gay. Trust me, after I dated Tori Johnson sophomore year, everyone knew I wasn’t gay.”
“Tis true,” I said remembering their extremely displayed affectionate relationship. For the 5 months he dated that chick, I swear to you, they only spent 10 minutes not making out. “What if Tori’s there tonight?”
Lawson stops to process this. He and Tori didn’t break up on the best of terms, she wanted him to stop being my friend, and he refused. I think she was jealous of our relationship; how close Lawson and I are. She still mean mugs me in the hallway but I don’t really pay attention to it.
“Then I’ll probably end up tappin’ that tonight so you might want to take your car,” he retorted casually.
I just looked at him.
“What?” he asked confused.
I just shook my head as we pulled away from the park. Boys will be boys. I almost forgot, “Son, I don’t have anything to wear tonight.”
“Don’t you and Kaiorri wear the same size?” he asked cautiously. Kaiorri was my cousin who was in college right now at Tisch School of Arts in NYU. “Borrow something from her closet”
I laughed, “Good one.” Kaiorri’s sense of style was on the other side of the galaxy from me. I was a jeans and t-shirt type girl and so was she, until she met her boyfriend and turned into a different person completely. She started MMA, got into the arts and took the first plane out of here after she graduated last year without a look back. But that’s beside the point; I was not going to be wearing any of Kaiorri clothes tonight.
So here I am, wearing a short black booty-skirt that went mid-thigh, a pink tube top with a black jacket over it, and black shoes with a heel that was bigger than most guys’ dick, walking down a the street to my ultimate death. I wanted to wear my hair in a ponytail, but my younger cousin Kyler said I looked prettier with my hair down. I know, I’m taking style advice from a 12-year-old, sad.
“Lawson! Pick up your gosh-damn-mother-truckin-phone!” I whisper scream into my phone for the 15thtime tonight. “I’m at the party and I don’t see you!” I falter step over a twig in the middle of the sidewalk almost dying. “I’m out here in the cold, with these fuckin’ heels on, about to get murdered by a twig” I say trying to steady myself. “If you don’t call me back, I’m going to turn around and go home,” I say threatening even though he probably won’t by it. I’m already here I won’t be wasting gas money by driving back a whole 25 minutes back home. “I’m missing Friday Night Smackdown for this!” I say finally before hanging up the phone.
I faintly hear music playing as I round the corner to DeLome Street where the party is at. It’s packed with cars everywhere, even on the sidewalk and yard! “Someone’s ass is grass when they parents get home,” I say scoping the mess.
As I walk, wobble, to the front steps, I realize I’m heading into enemy territory unarmed. Where the hell is Lawson?
I breathe in deep and open the door to the smell of booze and sweat. It takes me awhile to get over the gag feeling in my stomach but I do, eventually. People are everywhere lining the hallways, stairs, living room…everywhere. And they’re all looking at me. I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. I try to duck back out the door only to be greeted by Robin.
