The Last of the Line

Things could always be worse... right?

   Buzz... Buzz... Buzz... Buzz... Buzz

I rolled in my bed over to my nightstand which was holding the dreaded device that signaled I needed to get up. Quickly I shut it off and opened my phone and immediately I was blinded. My phone had been on full brightness and I swore I could have gone blind. Once the dark splotches disappeared from my eyes, I stretched out all of my limbs. I turned on my lamp cause it was still pitch black outside and went to throw off my blue covers when I heard something fall to the ground. It was a bag of cool ranch Doritos that was about halfway eaten through. I blinked. When did I get up in the middle of the night and grab a bag of Doritos? And if that wasn't weird enough already, I swung my legs out of my bed and dangled them so I could see my feet. My feet was coated with a layer of dried mud. I rubbed my eyes in case I was still dreaming, but of course I wasn't. Lucky me. I sat there for a few seconds wondering what I should do. The obvious answer was to probably tell June, but I can't do that because she might think I need to see a doctor. So not telling her seemed like the way to go as I stood up and stretched out my legs then walked to my bathroom to shower and get prepared for my game.
I quickly got showered, not a fan of them, and got dressed in my jersey. June came and knocked on my door before peering in, "Hey Martie, did you take a midnight snack from the pantry?" I froze in the midst of throwing my hair into a ponytail, what I am supposed to say to that? Yes June, I ate an entire bag of chips in one sitting the night before a big game? Perfect. "No, why is that? Something missing?" I asked, trying to be as clueless as I could. June stared at me for a moment and something felt... off about it, like she wasn't really looking at me. I chuckled, "What? You're looking at me funny." June chuckled back, not as humorous though, "No no... sorry just thinking. I must have misplaced them or something. No biggie. Anyways, you ready to go? T minus three hours until game time," she said, sounding much more upbeat. I nodded as I picked up my soccer bag, "Let's do this."

"And that's what I call a victory baby! Whoooooo!!!" I cheered as I flung open the door to our house, June joining in on my whoo. I tossed my soccer stuff into the side closet, I would clean that eventually, I was too excited at the moment. "A 5-0 shutout, very impressive performance by you ladies. That's the way how to end a highly successful season," June praised me. Glancing down at my gold medal, a tingle of joy spread throughout me. "I will say so myself, definitely went out with a bang," I added on before doing a little victory dance (which includes the backwards shuffle and some overdramatic arm pumping). June laughed at me, "So what should we do to celebrate such a fine win?" She walked over to the kitchen to get herself a water to take her vitamins. I plopped myself down in one of the island chair and opened up my phone, "Oh shucks... 17 missed calls and 53 text messages all from Veronica," I said sucking in a breath. June raised an eyebrow at me, leaning against the counter, "What's up with her?" I scanned over her messages then groaned, putting my head on the cold granite top. "I promised her I would go to a party if she did my photography homework," I explained rather bluntly. At first I would expect June to flip out that I had someone else do my homework, but instead she started laughing. I picked my head up and stared at her with a scrunched up face, "Why are you laughing? This isn't funny." "You... you at a party!" June wheezed out, attempting to catch her breath. I rolled my eyes, "I can party, I'm a great partier... er," I said then realized how much of a lie that was. June nodded, "Mmmhhhmmmmm," she dragged out before heading towards her room, "Just don't stay out too late alright, I'm working a night shift for my night owl clients so just text me when you get home." Seriously June? You're just going to let this happen? I thought you were supposed to be all protective and be like 'Party? Who is it for? Do I know the parents? Who are you going with? What will you be doing? I guess not. I dragged myself to my room, calling up Veronica. The second I heard her voice sounding all chirper and enthusiastic, I knew this night would be hell.

Staring at myself in my mirror, actually no, not myself, some makeup guru with blacker lashes than a black hole was staring in the mirror. Veronica was standing to the side of me, looking at her work with a prideful grin. "You look hot. I'm a miracle worker aren't I?" She placed her hands on her hips, pleased with herself. I blinked, my eyes getting a workout, "I look like a 'drag queen who wanted a daytime look'." Veronica scoffed, "Oh please, who is the artist here? That's right, me! Plus I didn't even go overboard." I looked over at her with a dumbfounded expression causing her to sigh. "Fine, wipe it off and do as you please. I'm definitely picking out your outfit though," she compromised before walking out of the bathroom to my closet. I shook my head as I wiped off the Rocky Horror Show makeup, starting to see myself again. Why did I agree to this in the first place? After redoing my makeup the way I like it (simple foundation and concealer with a dabble of silver eyeshadow and light red lipstick), I winked at myself in the mirror before going to see the disaster my bestie put together for me. Veronica whipped around to see what I had done, "You know, mine just spiced up your face, that's all. Made it really Pop!" She popped the p. "Mhmm," I sighed as I looked at the outfit on the bed, "Seriously?" Veronica nodded her head, "Damn right girl. So it's either you wear it or I confess to Ms. Witts that I did your project." "Yeah yeah... just let me change and I'll meet you in the car in ten," I gave in. Veronica clapped her hands together before skipping out of the room then I changed.
     I pulled off to the side of the road parking Veronica's jet black Dodge Charger. "Ok. We came, we saw, we enjoyed yourselves. Can we go?" I asked knowing it was pointless. Veronica rolled her eyes, smirking over at me. "Come on gorgeous, lets celebrate you ending your perfect soccer season and me getting accepted into Cornell University on a full ride scholarship!" She squealed, her mouth huge with a smile. I gasped then found my arms around her, "You made it?!?!? Oh my goodness!!! I'm so happy for you!!!!!!!!!!!" I nearly shrieked from my own excitement. Veronica squeezed me back chuckling, "Thank you thank you thank you! I was waiting for the perfect time to tell you... now let's party!"
     We walked towards the large house, it was Gavin Rider's, a spoiled frat boy whose parents were out of town for the week. Music blared and the huge grand structure seemed to be shaking from it and all the people inside. Veronica had her game face on with killer eyeliner and dark red lips along with a tight black leather skirt with a shimmering gold crop top. It was easy to tell she knew what she was doing, me on the other hand, I was trying not to trip in the heels I was forced to wear. I did not like the black strapless top, it felt like it kept falling down. The purple leggings were what Veronica called 'fashion' and I called 'see through'. However I solved this problem with tying a dark blue zip up around my waist. Veronica took my hand and lead me through the grand doors, and it was in that moment I was surely positive I wasn't coming out in one piece. Teenagers were everywhere. Packed anywhere they could be. Veronica shouted something to me but I couldn't understand. Then she did what I didn't expect and let go of my hand and disappeared in the crowd. I groaned as I attempted to follow her, pushing my way through the people 'partying' which I will translate to teenagers dancing in a way their parents would not approve of. After what seemed like forever, I stumbled out of the pack of animals and to the backyard which wasn't too bad, at least I could move. I felt out of breath, so much that I was panting. "Martie?" A voice asked, sounding hesitant. I looked over and wasn't sure if I was happy or angry to see him. "Fancy seeing you here, Caper."