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Chapter Five

“Are you sure you can’t see it?” I asked for the millionth time that night.

We were in the car, heading over the party that those boys invited us to after a long day at the beach. And by “it”, I meant the bruise I had acquired after I got impaled in the face with that God damned ball. Britt had tried her best to cover it up with her thick, pancake makeup but I was convinced that there was a patch of purple right next to my nostril and I kept checking my reflection in the visor mirror like those girls that are always in the bathroom no matter what period you go to relieve yourself.

“I’m positive. You can’t see it unless you point it out.” Britt said from the driver’s seat next to me.

“Jesus, Savanna, can you please move your seat up? My knees are literally in my boobs.” Avery whined.

“Literally?” I asked in a monotone, “Are they literally in your boobs? Are your knees literally inside your chest tissue? Because maybe we should be taking you to a hospital instead of the party.”

As a response, Avery forcefully kneed the back of my seat, jolting me forward.

“Use your words, Avery.”

“Shut your smart mouth and move the fucking seat up.”

I reached for the side of my seat and slid my seat forward. Avery helped my once again shoving her foot in the back of the seat.

“Thank you, but your assistance isn’t fucking needed,” I snapped.

“Well maybe if you would have done it the first time.”

“Will you two shut the fuck up? I think we’re lost.” Britt said.

“Why did we let her drive?” Avery rolled her eyes.

“You’re not much better,” I snorted.

Another kick to the seat sent me lurching forward. I spun around and gave her the death glare.

“Fucking put your foot on my seat one more time and I’ll put my foot up your ass.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared.”

“You’re the one who needs therapy, and you’re not even on your period.”

“Shut up!”

I just laughed and turned back around

“I bet you ten bucks they gave us the wrong address.” Britt muttered. “I bet you ten fucking bucks. We’re such idiots.”

“They didn’t give us the wrong address. Look, there’s 576. Their address is 582.” Reagan said, putting her lip gloss back in her clutch and smacking her lips.

Britt drove up a couple more ridiculously large houses and stopped. This was definitely the party. Cars were parked on both sides of the street and you could hear music coming from behind the tall bushes full of brightly colored flowers that blocked the view of the house. People were walking in and out of the little gateway they had. A group of girls were giggling and stumbling against one another, whatever was in their drink glasses spilling out onto their expensive looking shoes and causing them to shriek loudly.

Britt looked at me and I looked at her, feeling incredibly underdressed. I was just wearing a red-wine colored cotton skirt that sat around my waist and a black bandeau with little daisies on it. My hair wasn’t even curled, like everyone else’s. It was just straightened and put up in a high ponytail. The only makeup I had on was mascara, cherry Chapstick and that thick foundation that Britt had smeared all over my face. These drunken girls were wearing skin-tight mini dresses, ridiculous heels and had a full face of makeup on.