Sing

Fourteen

Fourteen:

I opened my eyes to my phone buzzing. I lifted it and squinted at the screen, reading the text from Marsha.

We've got that party tonight, she sent. I face palmed myself. I had forgotten that I had agreed to that.

About a week had already passed and I think Andy's 'girlfriend' had gotten slutier. I don't know if she had a secret side where she was sweet or something or I don't know why he stayed with her. I groaned angrily as I answered her.

I'm not getting out of this, am I?

Noppppe

Wow

I'll be there at nine tonight.

Ok

"Ugh!" I exclaimed into my pillow. I wasn't anticipating this party. I checked the time. It was already twelve in the afternoon. Damn. I slept in late.

I rolled lazily out of my bed and onto the floor. I just laid there for a while before I got up and took a shower.

I sat on the couch, eating handfuls of marshmallows. It was almost nine, and I was expecting an over party driven Marsha to come knocking on the door soon. I stuffed another marshmallow into my mouth, when I heard a loud and persistent knock on the door. I opened the door to let an excited Marsha in.

"Oh god, please tell me you're not wearing that to the party," she said, disappointed. I shrugged.

"What?" I looked down at my skinny jeans and white Ax7 shirt.

"You're changing," she said. I shook my head as she dragged me up to my room.

She pulled out the drawers of my dresser. Then looked at me.

"You have the dresser of a guy. Are there no dresses?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Skirts?" she asked, sounding desperate. I shook my head again.

"What am I supposed to do?!" she demanded. I walked out and into the bathroom.

"I have this somewhat form fitting shirt my mom got me that I never wore and I can wear some skinny jeans with it."

"Awesome."

So I ended up in a red and black shirt that was, form fitting. I was happy though when it didn't completely hug me to a point where I couldn't breath. Marsha had put me into a pair of my skin fight black skinny jeans and I put on my high tops.

"Dude, I can't feel my legs," I complained. She rolled her eyes.

"You look hot," she said.

"I feel stiff," I muttered. "These skinny jeans feel two sizes smaller than my others."

"That's because it's tighter than your usually ones."

I did my hair like I normally did. Marsha wanted to do my hair but I didn't want her to. My hair was too fabulous.

We drove there. When we pulled up into the drive way I looked around. I could hear the music and some people were outside, making out, half naked on the lawn.

"Get a room!" I yelled out the window to an almost naked couple eating each other's faces off in the yard.

Marsha parked and we got out, walking up to the house and in the front doors. I ran into a skimpy drunk chick who looked like she had been stripped repeatedly. I quickly avoided her and made my way to the kitchen with Marsha, which wasn't as full as all the other rooms. I leaned against the counter.