You Are Something Else, Juniper Zwinggi

Chapter 3

Explaining house party etiquette to Emily was like watching a newborn being overstimulated by a light show for the first time. 

"The flyer said it started at eleven. Shouldn't we start getting ready?" she asked at ten o'clock. I was sitting very unladylike on my bed still in my ceremony dress, not even thinking about getting ready until at least ten-thirty.

"You never arrive at the party on time. We should get there at least an hour late. Midnight is usually when it gets hoppin'."

"Okay," she said a little disappointed. 

"Also, pace yourself on the punch if you choose to have anything other than water. It's not just Kool-Aid in that punch bowl."

"Noted," she said.

She came in and out of my bedroom asking various questions until I made myself get up and help her get ready. The party was at a lake house just outside of Davis so she asked if she should bring a swimsuit and I told her absolutely not, that was an accident waiting to happen. I picked out a cute skirt and blouse with ballet flats for her, it was a good choice for a first college party experience. It wasn't too dressy but it wasn't too plain either. She'd be able to gauge the attire of other people and know what to wear next time. 

I, on the other hand, chose high-waisted jean cut offs, a long sleeve black turtle neck, and my high top converse. It would be cool and my legs didn't seem to get as cold as my arms did. Plain clothes wouldn't get me as much attention either. My hair went up in a messy bun and I attempted to touch up the makeup over my scar. Before the accident I never wore makeup, I didn't have to. I had been blessed with great skin and all it took was a little mascara to get me ready for a night out. Now, not so much. I had dark brown eyes, dark eyelashes and brows that brought attention to the fact that I'd developed dark circles over the summer too. 

"Need help?" Emily asked poking her head into my bathroom. I nodded. She came in and took out the concealer I bought. Closing my eyes, she started dabbing it over my face. "You know, it's not really that bad. Once it heals all the way you probably won't be able to see it."

"Yeah, I figure that'll be the case," I said, knowing she was trying to be nice and supportive. She only knew that I had been in an accident, not that I'd lost my brother too. She didn't even know I had a sibling.

The scar was a constant reminder of what happened. It was an indicator that I had survived and Pat didn't. It had been a deep cut that went from my temple and curved down to almost the edge of my mouth. I remembered the taste of blood as the glass had cut all the way through my cheek. It had been horrendously painful and I couldn't eat normally for weeks.  The forming scar tissue stunted my smile on the right side so I'd had to adjust the way I showed emotion. To me, this was my physical penance and it was a burden I needed to carry alone.

She surprisingly used very little concealer and after she applied foundation and powder, you could hardly see it at all. I let her touch up my eyes as well so I didn't look so tired.

"Wow," I said completely impressed. "You're good."

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We arrived at the party by 12:15. Cars covered the entire driveway and lined up along the shoulder of the country road. Jake's Jeep was parked towards the end so I knew he'd arrived not too long before we had. Emily and I walked arm in arm for a quarter of a mile to get to the house and when we arrived, uneasiness fell over us immediately.

There were people, EVERYWHERE. Couples were making out on the front lawn, there was a group of stoners sitting in a circle around the bird bath smoking weed, groups of guys drinking beer on the porch ogling at us as we passed. From the outside, the lake house looked like a mansion but when we walked inside there were so many people that it looked like we'd just set foot into a can of sardines. This was not a good idea.