Constellations

Chapter 10

"I look so weird in this," Ara grumbled, looking into the mirror. She managed to get herself a purple crop top and khaki shorts for the party tonight, which she tried to combine with a brown cardigan that she had brought from home but never had the chance to wear. Since this afternoon, she has been texting non-stop with Vikki, who had promised to pick her up at 7 pm.

Now it's six, and she has just finished showering with her hair still dripping wet, and with no idea of how to apply eyeliner to both of her eyes.

"At least I have a nice pair of ankle boots," she muttered to herself, while still busy drying her hair with a towel. "Hey, Vikki," she said, "Do you think I should wear my glasses?"

"Well, do you have contact lenses?"

"Nah, I left it back home," she frowned.

"Then wear your glasses. It looks great on you, anyway," Vikki spoke to her on the phone.

"Lies," she said to herself, laughing. "But alright, I'm not taking any risks."

"How bad is your vision, anyway?" Vikki asked.

Ara shrugged, before remembering that she was having a conversation on the phone. "Um, not that bad, actually. But yeah, it gets a bit blurry without my glasses."

"Then wear them. Look, I'm leaving at 6:35. Make sure that you're ready at 7, okay?"

"Okay, see you later," she replied, pressing the red button on her phone screen. She looked back into the mirror, relieved that her hair has finally dried. After brushing several times and making sure that there were no more tangles, she tied her hair up into a messy bun.

Screw it, I'm not applying makeup; she thought, her hand reaching for the perfume bottle on top of the dresser. She applied a few sprays, as much as she felt necessary, then glanced back into the mirror.

"Alright, probably some lipstick," she sighed.

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She walked outside of her room, complete with her ankle boots; she's glad that she brought flat ones instead of the one with heels, she could barely walk with them. And of course, just after she passed by Timothy's room on the way to reach the stairs, he walked out of his room.

"...okay, you don't like a kid in intermediate school anymore this way," he said.

"Probably because these aren't even clothes I usually wear," she sighed. "But it doesn't matter, I kinda like how I look in this. What do you think?"

He was quiet for a while, and she stood waiting impatiently, ready to walk towards the stairway and go downstairs.

"Um... you look... great," he finally said, slightly stumbling for words. For a few seconds his eyes wandered to her khaki shorts when she turned around to walk down the stairs, and down to her legs.

"Does it really look that weird?" She asked him.

"No! Not at all, but... don't you think it's a bit too... um, revealing?"

"That's an opinion I didn't ask for," she said nonchalantly, stepping up her pace a little faster. Mrs. and Mr. Taylor were downstairs as usual, him in front of the television and Mrs. Taylor waiting for her down the stairs.

"Hey, Ara?"

She turned to look upstairs, and Timothy was on his way down carrying something that looks like a jacket. "You might need it later."

"Um, thanks... but I've brought a cardigan with me. I don't think I need this."

"Yeah, yeah, but... it's a lot warmer, try it," he said, handing the jacket to her. The jacket looked a bit more like a coat, and brown just like her cardigan; it's a lot warmer, but also heavier.

She appreciated his gesture nonetheless. "Thanks," she said, smiling. "I'll put it on later in the car."

"Oh, I think Vikki is already outside. Don't turn on the Wii before I arrive home," she said to Tim.

"I'm leaving now, then," she said to Mrs. Taylor, grinning. "I won't come home too late, don't worry."

"Alright dear, have fun," Mrs. Taylor replied.

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Timothy lied down in his bed, occasionally taking glances outside from the bedroom window. He was hoping to see the same bright yellow headlights heading back to this house. Next to him, his phone kept buzzing with messages from Nathan, who somehow ended up at the party as well; because of Vikki, of course.

But then a longer buzz sounded from his phone and caught his attention. A phone call from Ara.

"Hey, Tim," she spoke, her voice sounded a little bit off. "I'm sorry for calling, but it seems Vikki has gone off with Nathan and I don't want to bother them... if it doesn't trouble you can you pick me up?"

"Really?" He would have laughed if he didn't notice something wrong with how she sounded. "You're gonna be alright? I'm gonna be on my way soon."

"I... I think so," she replied, slurring a bit. "Thanks for the jacket, though. I'd be really cold without this."

"I'm going now. Be safe, okay?" He said, before pressing the "End Call" button and heading outside.

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Ara sat in the backseat, uncharacteristically quiet. Her hair, that was previously put up in a messy bun, has been let down. Her eyes were closed. The jacket that was given to her were buttoned up all the way to the top.

He took a glance at the rearview mirror. "You're alright there?"

"Yeah," she murmured, rubbing her forehead. "I feel kinda sick."

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Did Derek do something to you? Because I swear--"

"I said I don't want to talk about it," she said, her voice wavered. "Please, I just want to get some sleep," she murmured to herself.

After fifteen minutes of driving home, the car finally stopped and parked in front of the house. "Can you walk on your own?" he asked, opening the car door.

"I'm okay, I just feel slightly ill," she replied. "Not used to alcohol at all."

"So you had drinks?"

"Just a few beers. One, two... fuck it, I don't know. Not that much, though."

"But Tim?" She said to him, turning around to face him when he was walking her up the stairs.

"You're right about Derek. He's a fucking prick."

"Didn't regret coming though, the rest of the guys are alright."

"But you're still the absolute fucking best, so I guess that's one regret I have for coming. Thanks for driving me home," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he smiled wearily. "Go change your clothes and sleep, Ara. You've always been a mess but this time is the worst I've seen so far."

"Fuck you," she giggled, slightly tipsy. "I wanna shower again but I don't really wanna pass out in the shower." She yawned, her hand was already on the door handle to her room. "Good night then, Tim."

"Good night," he replied, watching her disappear into her room, closing the door behind her.