Killer Queen|✔️ (Book 1)

20. Phuck!

I downed a few shots of vodka and got all dressed up in my tightest black dress and heels; pretending I was going to the opera and not some putrid high school choir event. Pen only agreed to come because I told her I'd bought her snacks. I met her in the gym, where the lights were already off, except the few above the choir platform. The only unreserved seats were on the far left side. I concluded that I wouldn't be able to see Dan from there and it would be a wasted trip. Plus those tickets were 15$. Even Willy Wonka sold his tickets for less than that.

      I made up some bullshit reason that we had to move, seeing as she thought we were there solely to fuck with Kiwi, and nothing about Dan. I can't remember exactly what I'd said to her, as it was getting hard to keep my lies in order. We picked up the metal chairs and walked them across the room, adding them to the far right side of the first row. It looked atrocious. The chairs were so far out in the aisle and clearly not supposed to be there. Dan would definitely be able to see me from there though...unless he stood on the other side of the platform...then he'd have his back to me. We had to move!

    Pen was really being a good sport about the whole thing. She pointed out two seats in the dead center of the front row. They were beyond perfect but already had two programs sitting on them, like they were saved. It didn't stop her from wandering over, throwing the programs on the floor and parking her ass in a seat.
T: "Pen! What if they come back!? I don't like confrontation! You know I'm a pussy."
P: "You've never been in a fight, right? You might be good at it. I bet they don't even wanna be here. I'm doing them a favor."
She opened the bag of junk food I'd brought, taking out a giant sugar cookie and making herself comfortable.

    After a few minutes, an old woman I'm guessing in her early 80's, stopped in front of the programs that had been tossed on the floor. "Excuse me, these are my seats."                
P: "No saving seats. It's against the constitution." "I had these programs on them though. These are mine."
P: "Ma'am...you left a stack of maybe seven papers stapled together, to defend your seats. It's not exactly a stone wall and a moat. " "But my grandson is singing tonight. I need to be able to see him."
P: "Trust me, when you die, this isn't gonna wreck his memories of you; just because granny had to sit in the back row that one time. He knows you love him."

     It wasn't that Pen spoke with unwavering confidence or anything like that. She'd speak to you while hysterically laughing and look you right in the eye like a maniac, and you'd get a little frightened. You knew she could not give a fuck less about anything you said, so you started to doubt yourself and you'd soon lose all self-confidence and just walk away. I pretended to be deeply concentrating on the new caramel colored highlights she'd gotten strewn about her long brown hair; completely removing myself from the situation. The lady's husband eventually called her over to two seats in the center of the aisle. The ones that we dragged over.