Beer, Spaghetti, and Pharmaceuticals ||COMPLETED||

Ten

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read! And as always, huge thanks to @ElisionEditing for making this story great. :)

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Chapter Ten

Eight o'clock was approaching far too soon.

Alice was wrestling with a lacy white dress she hadn't worn since her second year of college. She hopped up and down, sucking in her stomach as tightly as she could, and stretched out the scrunched up fabric around her waist.

"Please fit. Please fit," she pleaded, jumping in the air. She gave one last forceful pull, and, "Oh, thank god."

A huge breath of relief escaped her lips when the dress' material relaxed down her hips, falling just above her knees. She smiled victoriously in the mirror. Even if it meant holding her breath for half the evening, she still fit into her college clothes!

She ran her fingers along the delicate lace and frowned. Was this dress too much? It certainly wasn't something she would wear to a simple dinner with a friend. She scrunched her nose and leaned closer to the mirror, examining a patch of acne that appeared overnight. She tutted her tongue; twenty-five years old and still dealing with acne. If Mark was just a friend, she shouldn't care.

She grabbed her powdered foundation to brush along the inconvenient blemish and sighed. No matter which way she spun it, Mark was not just her friend. Her entire dating history, with the exception of a handful of random hookups, could be summarized in one word: Mark. For the first time ever he was the one pining after her...she had all the power. Even though this was something she had dreamed about; she was quickly realizing she did not like this kind of pressure.

She spritzed a third layer of hairspray in her long red curls.

"Oh, shit! Way too much!" she whined, scowling at the perfect combination of greasy and crunchy curls. "What am I doing? Why didn't I invite Emily over?"

Quickly, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to create that tousled, effortless, beachy look she was never able to perfect.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She yelped and turned to the clock. It was only 7:40. Mark was twenty minutes early.

Her fingers were knotted in her hair and she cursed at her reflection. She was not physically or mentally prepared for this. He knocked again and she rushed to untangle her fingers from her hair. She shouldn't have tried to fix it; now it looked like a rat's nest.

She quickly grabbed a pair of matching white flats from her closet as he knocked. Since when did Mark get so impatient?

"Coming!" she yelled, even though she knew he wouldn't hear. She rushed around her bedroom in search of her purse. She had just seen it two minutes ago. When she shook her purple duvet in the air, her purse and a black worn out zippered sweater tumbled out. She paused to run her fingers along the small rip at the edge of the sleeve. She had never seen it before...it looked cozy, though. Maybe she should wear it. She already looked like a train wreck, may as well go all the way.

The repeated knocking at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. She threw the sweater on the closet floor before running to the door. Before opening the door, she took one last deep breath and smoothed out her hair. This was it.

She opened the door with a chipper smile on her face.

The smile slid off her face and she threw her hands in the air exasperatedly.

"Oh, what the fucking hell, Isaac?"

Wearing an uncharacteristically baggy grey sweater and black sweatpants, looking more pale than usual; he sighed in relief upon seeing her and breezed right past her saying, "Thank god. You're here."