Upper Six (Completed, Being Edited)

Four: The Present

It's Friday.

Just another day on the calendar, to anyone else. No reason to worry.

Right?

No.

Today it Laura's birthday, and tonight, she's throwing a party; a party that I am invited to.

I don't know if I've ever been more conflicted in my life; I want to go. I want to see what her house is like, I want to see into this girl's life.

Call it curiosity.

However, I don't want to appear to be needy, to be that one fùck that you can't get off of your back. I know she invited me, but still.

Additionally, if I go, I feel like she'll be winning in a sense.

But if I don't go... fuck. If I don't go, she'll hold that shit against me, and we all know how Laura gets when she's all up in her feelings.

I could always tell her that I wasn't feeling well.

But you know that you want to go.

Fuck.

Sighing to myself, I grab my bag and march out of the classroom, wondering where to go now that I'm free. I can't go to the library, because Laura's free too, and I do not want to face her right now.

After thinking for a few minutes, I come up with the solution.

The prison benches.

"The prison benches" are a set of metal seats and benches under a zinc roof by the sixth form block. I don't usually sit there because just being there is enough to make the soul feel oppressed, but right now, I don't mind.

But of course, it's not that easy.

As I'm walking over to the benches, I'm pulled back by my sweater.

"Thought you could get away from me?" says a voice that is getting to be too goddamn familiar.

"Are you fucking stalking me?" I ask, fed up with her behavior now; this is borderline obsession.

"Watch your mouth, little one."

"Listen to me, you bitch, don't fucking talk down to me."

She looks baffled by my reply, but shakes it off.

"So, my party is tonight-"

"I remember."

"And?"

She's asking, not ordering. She's learning.

Good.

"I don't know if I'm coming yet. I might be busy."

She looks as if she's ready to bitch at me, but thinks better of it, because honestly, she can't order me to drop my personal shít for her party.

"Okay. Well, I hope you can make it," she mutters before walking off.

I exhale loudly, only now realising how nervous I am.

"What the fuck has my life come to?" I mutter under my breath.

***

"What the fuck are you doing, Fiona?" I ask myself, looking in the mirror one more time and huffing out a loud breath.

I look like a mess.

I hear the taxi beep outside, and then my mother shout to tell me that the taxi is outside. Nervously, I smooth my hands over my dress one more time before picking up my purse and the gift bag, leaving the house, telling my mother goodbye and locking it behind me.