You'll Fall For Me, I Promise

10; 'I Want 'Welcome To The Black Parade' Played At My Funeral'

The last week of school came and went, going much to quickly for my liking. It was surprising to see the difference in the teachers though. Half were happy to allow the class to talk, or watch a movie, or do random projects that didn't really have anything to do with our work but were fun, while the other half decided the last week of school would be the best time to give out long essay assignments, spring surprise tests on us, and make us do work knowing we won't remember half of what we did by the time we came back.

Friday I walked under the cracking white arch for the last time in three weeks, actually feeling a little sad. Not that I'd miss school, but I knew that in only two days my friends would be gone and I'd be left to my own devices for four weeks.

Now, I'm sat on the floor of Paige's bedroom, in a weird triangle-circle shape with her and Liam, spending today together because tomorrow, Monday morning, the first day of our 4 weeks away from school, they'll both be boarding planes to go to the opposite sides of the world, also away from me.

Her room isn't typical teenage girl, but then it isn't really that crazy either. Her room's theme is royal blue and cream, a queen sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. She has a chest at the foot of her bed and two bedside tables either side of the bed. In the far right corner is a large wardrobe and in the far left is a desk to do school work on. She has stuffies and teddies scattered around the room, and photos of the three of us on her desk and bedside table, posters of various bands scattering the walls.

We decided that tonight had to be nothing but happy and full of activities so that our last day together could be looked on during the holidays as fun, not wasted. That's how we ended up on the floor, sat in a strange shape, all facing each other. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as the bottle in the middle of us span. Childish, I know, but truth or dare always ended strangely between us.

So far some really strange dares have been exchanged, to the point where Paige had just come back from running down the street in a pair of shorts and a bikini top, holding a taco and screaming "has anyone seen my taco?"

Both Liam and Paige have always been eccentric and wild, obviously not like the populars or the bads, but in their own way that made me love them. Myself, on the other hand, I struggle to live up to the legends of red-heads, disappointing generations of red-heads with my lack of eccentricity and boldness; I'm quiet. I'm comfortable in my body and I'll happily talk to someone if they engage with me, or if they need help, but other than that I keep to myself and my small friend group.

"Zoey," Liam calls my name, snapping me out of my thoughts. I smile at him and nod, before realizing that the bottle's top is pointing at me and groan, knowing they're going to come up with some absurd dare that they know I won't do just to see my reaction. Okay, so maybe I lied a tad; this is truth and dare, without the truth, ladies and gentlemen.

"Finish this," Liam smirks, and even Paige looks a little shocked. In his had was a little less than half a bottle of beer. I turn my nose up, staring at it with revulsion obvious in my features. He knew I hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol before, and that's why he dared me. I knew there was no malice, but I really didn't have a desire to touch the stuff.

"I don't want to," I complain, chewing my lip nervously as I did. Liam simply raise his eyebrow, wiggling the bottle at me, not saying a word. There was no way I was putting a downer on the night, and no way that I was going to be the only person to pass on a dare. I take the bottle from his, sniffing it and remembering the comment I'd made only a week prior at the club. I grimace and take a sip, nearly choking at the vile taste, but refuse to back down, finishing the whole bottle. I put the bottle on the floor, coughing and rubbing my mouth, my eyes watering a little.