Seven

pre

Seven is my number.

Ever since the first grade, on my seventh birthday.  It was one of those awesome elementary school days where the birthday girl or boy would bring in a box of cupcakes or whatever, everyone would sing happy birthday, and everyone would enjoy their desserts.  On my seventh birthday, I brought in cupcakes made by my mother.  We made them together the night before.  I don't know why, but this birthday stuck in my head, and this number remained the best.

My usernames and passwords, the amounts I always choose, the numbers I guess, the percentages I go for; everything revolves around the number seven to me.

Anyways, besides the number, my name is Mackenzie.  Mackenzie Coleman.  I'm pretty much a normal seventeen year old, from your basic American small town, with an average group of friends, going to an ordinary high school, with not many unconventional things about me.  I mean, other than the fact that I'm suicidal.

So, that's pretty much the basic facts about me.

//

"Ms. Coleman, what do you say for number seven?"

"I got four cube root three."

"That's correct."

See, number seven is always right.

"Alright, everyone," Our math teacher exclaims.  "Class is just about over.  Just remember to do numbers twenty through thirty six on page twenty nine for homework, and I'll see you all tomorrow."  Just as she finishes speaking, the bell rings.

I get up and walk out of the room next to my "best friend".  The truth is, she's my closest friend, but everything that we've gone through pushes me to know that she is not best friend material.

"Are you going to the party tonight?" Myra asks me.

"Yeah, probably," I answer.  "You?"

"Yeah."  She nods her head.  Over the course of the past few months, things have felt so awkward between us.  We used to be so close.  We've always been close – that is, up until a few weeks ago.

"Well I guess I'll see ya there then," I say after the moment of silence between us.  "Gotta get to history."

"Right," She says with a small smile.  "See ya, Kenzie."

//

Since I literally have no good friends anymore, later that night while going to the party, I have to go alone.  Walking into parties by yourself is so awkward, yet it's what I have to do.  I wish I had one friend.  All I ask for is one simple good friend, but my wishes have yet to be granted.

"Mackenzie, you made it!" Teddy, the host of the party, exclaims immediately after I walk through the door.  Obviously I came later than I was supposed to, pretty much solely because I was coming by myself.  It's even more weird, though, because all of my "friends" are standing in a huge group by the door, forcing me to interact with them.  I don't even know why I'm here.

"Hey," I greet, trying to plaster my realest looking smile on my face.

Teddy gives me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.  "You look so hot tonight," He whispers, squeezing my ass in the process. I hate him so much. I tend to act like he's my friend, but I hate him.

"Back off, Teddy," I casually say, adding a laugh at the end.  "Personal space, keep it in mind."

"You want me in your personal space," He flatters.

"In your dreams," I taunt.  "I'm going to go get myself a drink."

"I'll come with you, I need one myself," My other friend, Jay, announces.  Jay, unlike all these fake people, is a somewhat good friend.  He's never done anything to directly hurt me or spite me, so he hasn't made it to the bad side yet.