Three Alphas, Three Mates

Chapter 11 - The Party, The Truth

Maybe it's a pride thing?

I don't know. Maybe a level-headed, logical person could explain why, after I get home from school on Friday, I panic in my closet looking for something decent to wear.

Do I need to prove myself to Suzie and the rest of those girls?

No.

Is my petty self still going to try?

Heck yes!

I can't just let someone crap on me. Even if I just walk out to the carpool looking nice to say, "Sorry, something came up," and flip my hair over my shoulder pretentiously, that's what I'm going to do. I've already decided it.

I throw around some crop tops I haven't worn since my quarter-life crisis. Or should I say my last quarter-life crisis. I stare down at the shirts, remembering all the adventures I've had with past friends I've long since lost touch with. It's not bittersweet. It's not sad. I don't necessarily miss them anymore, I barely even think of them from time to time, until something like these shirts reminds me of them.

I don't even know why I bought so many of these shirts in particular. I always love them in the store and then during the car ride home I come back to my senses. I always told myself that I keep buying them for a rainy day.

Emotionally it feels like it's pouring outside, so here it is. I pull out my grey, Star Wars crop top and heeled boots. This is an emergency.

Michael comes bursting through my door. I think the house is on fire. Charlie just swallowed a lego. Wait, he hasn't done that in years. Maybe Megan... I don't know. I hop up. "What?"

"Where are the batteries?" he asks, out of breath.

I want to choke him. "Michael."

"Come on. I'm desperate here." He waves his hand at me.

"Get out," I turn around and look for my high waisted pants.

"Ugh, you're no help," he walks out, leaving the door open. I scream internally.

"Wait," he comes back in. "Is that the Star Wars shirt? Are you going on a date?"

"Get. Out." I throw another shirt in his direction. It unfolds about half an inch away from me and pitifully falls to the floor.

We both stare at it, silently.

"Don't," I warn, hanging my shoulders in shame.

He swallows his fit of chuckles. "What? I didn't say anything."

I go back to looking for my pants.

"Do I know him?" he asks, walking further into my room and poking around my desk.

"Megan has the batteries," I say, flatly. "And I'm going somewhere with a friend."

He looks over his shoulder, scratching the back of his neck. "I was just..."

"Mhmm," I pull the article of clothing out of a heap of stuff triumphantly. This'll be [note: imagine the shirt has the star wars logo].

He rushes towards the door, now that he knows he won't find what he's looking for here, but then he stops right before he's really gone. "Wait, what kind of friend?"

"Just a friend." I get up and shoo him out.

"Oh no," he stands firmly. "I want specifics. I want times. I want locations. I need the names and contacts of accomplices. Snapchats."

"I'm going to a party with Suzie." I tap my fingers against the door I'm trying to close.

"The Suzie you just cursed from here to kingdom come on the ride home?" he asks.