Terms and Agreements (on hold indefinitely)

Mr. Hot Stuff Carpools with me to a Dumb Party much to the Elation of my Friends

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When I got home I started frantically searching for "party clothes". Most of my wardrobe consisted of t-shirts, sweatshirts, jeans and maybe a couple of sweaters and one lone pair of leggings.

Eventually, I settled on a black sweater and the leggings, which were also black, and a pair of boots, which also happened to be black.

After laying the outfit across my bed, I feared it to be too drab, but then decided it was fine, because in understated clothing I'd be less likely to be noticed. So that was good.

If you haven't already guessed, I'm not much of a people person. And parties, ugh, I hate parties. Still don't know what made me go to this one, of all parties.

You see, the drawing of names for The Event was taking place at this party, and the student body had already cast their votes for what the pair's first "task" was going to be in the week prior, and I wasn't looking forward to seeing a couple of idiots doing it in front of everybody.

I hardly slept that night, imagining all of the things that could go wrong. What if my name got drawn? But I shut that down. Hardly anyone knew me. Less than hardly knew my name. Wait, if less than hardly knew my name, how did Mr. Hot Stuff know it? He probably looked in the yearbook or something. But then couldn't everyone look in the yearbook? Oh no.

And that's how my night went, sleepless and stressing over stuff.

When morning finally came, I spent all day trying to put makeup on. Makeup wasn't my cup of tea. I rarely put it on and when I did it was always very little and very natural looking. I did blow dry my hair, however, making the short, dark, wavy strands look less oily and I actually did something with my bangs. I usually just go with the 'I woke up like this' look, meaning I look like I've been hit by a truck.

I picked up my friend Jenna, and she was dressed up very nicely in a short pale green dress, and of course her makeup was better than mine. Her long light red hair was curled and she'd taken her glasses off, making her large brown eyes look even bigger.

After I picked her up, we went to fetch Wes. He was the only guy that hung out with us enough to be considered a friend, and when we'd first formed our little trio, Jenna had daydreamed about them being best friends and then falling in love.

But Wes came out last year, so that put an end to all of her daydreams of a fairy-tale-like best-friend-to-lovers story. Ever since he announced his homosexuality, Wes seemed much happier and much more comfortable. I'm glad he didn't wait any longer to make it public. But of course, there are the idiots that pick on him, although fortunately, most of the people at our school are pretty okay with him. As they should be.

He was wearing a red button down shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair of red Converse sneakers to polish off the whole thing.

We hung out for a little while and then we set off at about 6:45, while I tried desperately to remember how to get to Mr. Hot Stuff's apartment.

I managed to get us there, barely in time, but unfortunately I hadn't a clue which apartment was his, so I just sat in the car and waited while Wes and Jenna kept watching cat videos on their phones.

I caught sight of Mr. Hot Stuff about ten minutes after we got there, peering out of the door of an apartment directly in front of us. His eyes landed on the car, and me, a second after his head popped out of the doorway, and he gave me a half-wave before disappearing back inside.

He reappeared a moment later with a toddler on his hip, his phone to his ear, and a sheepish grin on his face. The little girl he was carrying appeared fussy and was waving her arms around and making a bunch of noise. Ugh. Kid. Ugh.

I rolled the window down as he approached, and the first thing he offered me was an apology. "I'm so sorry, but the sitter's late and my sister's still out."

"That's okay," Jenna said immediately from the backseat. Uh oh. She was using her "sexy-flirty" voice.

I was about to ask Mr. Hot Stuff who the kid was, but he turned away, saying something into the phone. I didn't hear what it was, however, because Wes, who was sitting in the passenger seat, grabbed my arm.

"You didn't tell me he was coming," he whisper-yelled frantically. Yeah, apparently every single person at school who was attracted to the male species, with the exception of myself, had a crush on Mr. Hot Stuff.

"I thought you realized who we were picking up when I parked in front of his home," I said.

He looked at me in surprise. "Like I would know where he lives."

"Yeah," Jenna spoke up, "how do you know where the Greek god of our high school lives, Ali?"

"Because I gave him a ride home yesterday," I answered, in a tone that apparently gave the impression that this was a normal occurrence.

"What?!" They both exclaimed, various expressions of surprise and shock on their faces.

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh my god, Ali, do you know how...how amazing that is?" Jenna squealed.

"I just gave somebody a ride home, it's not that big a deal," I said, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say because they both launched on me a million reasons why giving Mr. Hot Stuff a ride was a big deal.

At last, he finished up his phone call and unknowingly freed me from a very weird lecture. "Okay, so the sitter said she'd be here in a couple of minutes," he said as he brushed away the little girl's hands from his face.

He was dressed in a nice black and white jacket with a gray shirt underneath, blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. He had his brown hair looking wavier and fuller-bodied than usual, and I could tell that Jenna and Wes both were just eating him up with their eyes.

"We're not in a hurry, don't worry," I assured him. He looked a tad stressed.

As I opened my mouth to ask who the kid was, Jenna cut me off. "Yeah, the drawing for The Event doesn't start until eight."

Despite the fact that every year I made my distaste for The Event abundantly clear, Jenna and Wes both took interest in it, and even voted. But it's not my place to tell them what to do and not do, so I didn't bug them about it.

Jenna and Wes made small talk with the guy until the sitter showed up, and they all wouldn't shut up long enough for me to ask how the stinking kid was related to him.

He slid into the backseat, much to Jenna's pleasure and Wes's annoyance - because he wanted Mr. Hot Stuff to himself, I guess - and off we went to the party.

Somehow, Mr. Hot Stuff knew both Wes and Jenna's names, so I asked him how.

"I like to know all of my loyal subjects by name," he replied, chuckling, "you know, since I am a king and all."

I smiled a bit at that. Apparently me and the hottest guy ever - according to the entire student body except for myself - had an inside joke.