[WARNING: Accidental drug use.]
"So, what now?"
Sabrina shrugged, putting her feet up on the coffee table and staring at the ceiling. "You tell me, Rox. It's the night after Christmas, and all through the house... nothin'."
"Hmm," Roxie mumbled as she paged through the newspaper. "How about we hit up the theater? That new Tom Hanks movie just came out."
"The one where he's trapped on an island with a beach ball for company?" I asked with a sour expression. "Thanks, but no; it's eerily similar to my Senior year."
We'll pause here for a second to satisfy any curiosity you might have about the rest of Christmas Day, but there's not much to tell; we all felt incredibly stuffed, Aunt Hilda made us watch "Ernest Saves Christmas" (her all-time favourite Yule flick) while we digested, and after all the excitement and my lack of sleep the night before, we pretty much passed out the moment our heads touched the pillows.
Of course, that's not to say I was totally comfortable the whole time; once during dinner, both Sabrina and I reached for the butter dish and brushed hands, and I almost lost my cool for a second. Messed up, isn't it? Also, the going-to-bed-together thing felt a lot stranger this time, but I bit the bullet and made with the wax-lip smile. Actually, by then I was even starting to really feel fine - the old "fake it 'til you make it" trick, right? So enough about that crap for now.
Back in the present, Sabrina was flipping through the rest of the day's mail, tossing stuff into general piles on either side of her feet. "Well, there has to be something we can do with ourselves short of buying those big padded sumo-wrestler suits."
"Those sound like fun!" Roxie piped up.
"Ew?" I breathed.
"Don't worry, mi amigas," Sabrina continued, "some exciting development will present itself in due time; we just have to- hmmm."
"Hmm?" we both said, flocking to the couch.
"This flyer got slipped into our mailbox," she continued as she held it up for us to see. "There's gonna be a rave tonight!"
"'A Club Christmas'," I read aloud. "At least they're inventive?"
"Dude, seriously?" Roxie breathed, grabbing it from her. "Wow, this solves all our problems!"
"Except one," Sabrina sighed, slumping down into the couch. "This flyer was obviously meant for Morgan; if any of the rest of us call the number, we might not sound cool enough to get invited."
"That's not necessarily true," Roxie said excitedly. "I mean, you're a total geekwad, but I can pull off cool long enough for a couple phone conversations, right?"
"Maybe, but- hey, wait a minute!" Ooh, that look of indignation was priceless.
"Hate to break it to you," I interrupted with a shrug, "but if neither of you have been to a rave before, there's a pretty low likelihood that you'll get invited to this one."
They both folded their arms. "Who says we've never been to a rave?" Sabrina asked coldly. All I had to do was wait maybe five or ten seconds before she cracked. "Okay, fine, so what? It's not like we've never been to a party before, though."
"But raves are exclusive," I went on, folding my legs under me as I sank into the recliner. "With a party, any idiot can hear the music and just waltz on in, tap the keg. The two main objectives of a rave are to get some use out of your strobe lights and to filter out the undesirable elements of geeks and losers."
"Like us," Roxie muttered.
"What?" Suddenly I found my mouth had a foot in it. "Oh, no, I didn't mean you guys!"
YOU ARE READING
Cheer-Stained: One Week In Westbridge
Fanfiction[CHEERLESS SAGA, Book 3/6] Libby blows back into town, and it doesn't take her long to run into her best blonde bud. But Sabrina's life has marched forward just like Libby's - can they still relate to each other?
