Things End, Deal With It

eighteen

"So, is this one alright?" Marisol asks. She's been trying on dresses for at least twenty minutes.

"Yes," I respond, without even looking her way.

"Cheyenne, what is wrong with you? You didn't pay any attention to the movies we watched, and you're on your damn phone right now. You aren't even looking my way," she complains.

"I'm surprised you noticed anything during the movies, you were always on your phone texting Taylor."

"Is that what this is about?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see her put her hands on her hips. I sit up from her bed and sit on the edge.

"Yes, it is. You wanted to hang out, and all you've done is text him. I get it, you guys are 'in love', but come on. Can't you guys just go at least an hour a day without talking to each other?" She inhales and exhales. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, she sits down beside me on the bed.

"I'm sorry. I just never think about other people when I'm talking to him. I really am sorry." She wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I lie my head on hers.

"It's okay." I inhale her perfume and then sit up straight. "That is the best dress of them all. I have been paying attention." Marisol laughs.

"Okay then, I'll wear this one." She stands beside me and smooths out the navy blue dress. It was strapless and knee-lenght; a beautiful fit for her. "What are you going to wear?"

"Take me to my house, and we'll find out."

*

I end up wearing a black, mid-thigh dress with lace quarter sleeves. It was one of my favorite dresses, but only because it was black. I really like black.

"What shoes?" Marisol digs through my closet while I sit on my bed, in my dress.

"It doesn't matter. We all know I'll end up taking them off anyway." She finally gets out a pair of black wedges, the only wedges I will ever own. I hate them. "These? Really?"

"You can't wear your converse."

"Hey, that's a good idea." I smile at her as she gives me a glare. "Fine, I'll wear them, but I'm taking them off as soon as I get there."

"Whatever." She tries to fight off the smile, but of course, it doesn't work. "Let's go." I put on the wedges, and I have to hold on to her to get down the stairs. I already told my mom we were going to a party at Taylor's. She told me not to drink or do drugs, and I told her I would never.

When we get there, it's ten(we decided to go later), and the music is blaring. Taylor's house isn't huge, but it's bigger than mine and could fit at least fifty people, just on the first floor. We stand in the open doorway, trying to spot Taylor, Nash, or somebody. Suddenly, a lot of whooping and shouting come from the direction of the living room, so we follow. Standing on the coffee table in only his boxers, is Taylor, dancing along to the music.

"Goddamnit Taylor. It's only ten, and you're already drunk," Marisol mumbles beside me and starts to push through all the people. She finally makes it to the middle of the circle and pulls Taylor down, but it wasn't that easy. He definitely resisted multiple times, but she just yanked him down and brought him towards me. They stand in front of me, both looking slightly pissed off.

"Great way to start the party." I half smile at Marisol, and Taylor starts laughing his ass off. She smacks his bare chest, and he scowls at her.

"Go get dressed." She points up the stairs. When he doesn't move, she shouts, "Go!" Then he scampers up the stairs and down the hall.

"Okay, everyone here is drinking, and I'm only fifteen. What am I doing here?" My eyes scan the room, looking for anyone interesting to talk to. "Oh." I spot a guy with black hair and a cute smile. "That's what I'm doing here." I wink at her and head in his direction. He's talking to a friend, I'm guessing, so I patiently wait for him to finish. The thing about that is, I'm very impatient. After about five minutes though, his friend is gone, and he almost walks away. "Hey," I say as he passes. He turns around and looks at me.

"Wow, you're pretty. I mean, um, hi." He spills a little bit of his drink on the floor while clumsly walking up to me. "I'm Zach." He sticks out the hand that has his drink in it, and I giggle a little bit. He slowly retracts it and puts his other hand out. "Sorry," he gushes.

"It's okay." I chew on the inside of my lip for a few seconds as I shake his hand. "Cheyenne."

"Wait, why are you talking to me?"

"Do you not want me to?"

"No, no. You're like gorgeous, and I'm all awkward and weird," he explains, and blood rushes to my cheeks.

"That's okay. I'm quite the same actually. Sometimes I just run into things and don't even mean to. It's embarrasing. I also spill my drinks a lot, usually on other people." He chuckles.

"Now, I feel a little better." A short silence falls over us until he asks if I want to go smoke a cigarette.

"A cigarette?" I question.

"Y-Yeah." He fumbles out a box of cigarettes and shows them to me.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen, I got these from my brother." I open the box then slowly close it.

"Let's go." He smiles and grabs my hand to take me outside. We end up in the back yard instead of the front, and I'm surprised nobody is here. I take one of the cigarettes out and put it between my teeth, before handing him the box. He slides one out, puts the box back in his pocket, then pulls out a lighter. He lights mine first then lights his. I inhale slowly then take it out. I blow out the smoke and smile. "This is.." I try to find the right word for the situation. "This is good." I sit down on the porch and let my feet dangle over the edge. I take another drag and then turn towards Zach. He's staring at the sky, at the tiny, white stars that dot the blackness. "So, Zach." I get his attention. "How do you know Taylor?"

"Taylor?" He takes a puff from his cigarette and frowns.

"The guy who's hosting this party?"

"Oh yeah, him. No, I don't know him. A couple of my friends were invited to the party by other people who were invited so I just tagged along." I nod slowly at him then look up. I finish off my cigarette right after Zach, and he suggests we go inside.

"Okay," I mumble because I was having a good time. As soon as I step foot in the house, I see Nash walking through the door. "Nash!" I scream over the music. He doesn't hear me so I charge through all the people. "Nash!" I scream, but again he doesn't hear me. As I realize what a bad idea it was to run in these wedges, I fall. With people still around me, I have no way to stand up. I try ask for people's help, but they ignore me. I slip off the wedges and push someone over to stand up. They curse at me, and I flip them off. I pick up the shoes and carry them to where I saw Nash. He isn't there so I find the laundry room and stash my shoes in there. I pad into the kitchen and find Nash there with Cameron. Cam sees me, but I hold a finger to my mouth, telling him to be quite. Nash turns his head, spots me, and I frown.

"What? You aren't happy to see me?"

"No, I was going to scare you." I wrap my arms around Nash as he does the same to me.

"You two like each other, don't you?" Cam eyes us.

"Nash, you told him?" I seeth.

"No," Cam answers. "But you just did."

"Ugh, I'm an idiot."