I Think I Love You

Chapter 9: Mia

Chapter 9: Mia

I can't believe Mac got me to come to this party tonight. Even though it's never really our scene, he always seems to get invited to them and has a way of convincing me to go with him. I guess you could say he's pretty well-liked at East River Private Institute, and definitely the more social one among us. I was hoping to have a night in and binge-watch old movie classics, but he has a way of being pretty convincing when he wants something, and tonight I know he just wants me to have fun. He's one of those people where you meet them for the first time, and you instantly like them. I've seen it happen, and it amazes me every time.

"Hey man, you made it! Didn't think you were gonna be here tonight", Trey comes over to give Mac a handshake-turned hug with a slap on the back. You know, that thing that guys do.

"It was actually Mia who was dying to come party", Mac says teasing. I get a shiver and let the word 'dying' fly over my head. My mouth drops to come to my defense and playfully exclaim that it was his idea. Although somewhat opposites, Mac and Trey have been friends since freshman year. Trey also has a likeable charm where he'd walk into a room and you can't help but be hyped. He's one of the funniest people I've ever met, and although I'd never admit it, Mac's jokes get funnier when Trey's around. When he's out third-wheeling us, he'd often say he's the tray that holds our mac and cheese. They're one of the best bro-duos I've seen, and if it wasn't for me, Mac and Trey would be married by now.

"You have a lovely home and it's always nice to come by. I hope nothing gets broken", I say looking around.

"Don't worry about it! It's been a tough week for all of us, so go ahead and break things. Tonight's supposed to be LIT!", he says the last part loud enough for the crowd to hear so that they erupt into a cheer. Red solo cups launch into the air, and people holler around. He gives Mac a high-five before walking off to go outside. I give a smile. Trey is a party all on his own.

"You sure you don't want anything to drink?", Mac asks pointing at the punch bowl on the table.

"No I'm okay. I'm sweet enough" I say coyly.

"You're right" He smiles at me and takes my hand while we walk over to the living room. Some people are playing a game I'm not familiar with so I just watch while Mac talks to one of his friends.

Most of the people here are from East River, and only a small handful from Forest Glade. And by small handful, I mean mainly the popular kids. I tried to drag Gwen with us but she said she'd rather count dots on the ceiling than hang out with preps who think they're better than everyone else. At least she's honest about how she feels. I remember how shocked she was when she found out that Mac was going to East River since he didn't fit the typical snob persona, and worried that he'd change to be just like them, but Mac doesn't change. He's always Mac and he's managed to keep his feet on the ground, mainly from his parent's upbringing who are humbler than they think.

I hear a wave of laughter coming from the foyer and follow the gaze of phones pointed at the top of the stairs. One of the football players is stripped down wearing a tutu and a clown wig. He's got his face painted and runs down the stairs yelling "Bulldogs Forever!" as the rest of the team root for him.

He turns the bend into the kitchen and that's when I see him. A boy in a green shirt, standing in the crowd. For a moment, I think it's my mind playing games with me. He looks younger, shorter than the rest of us, and his hair is a shaggy brown. Instantly, I get a painful flash of the boy in green from the library. The look of horror on his face when he got shot and fell to the ground. Very different from this boy here who is alive and well, with a grin on his face. It's a twisted parallel, to see a mirror of him, and it starts to feel like I'm warped into a vortex. I almost want to go to him to see if he's real but my mind locks me into a state where I see him lying on the floor, and I see a version of me sitting, crying as I watch the life bleed out of him.