Kid in a Locker (REWRITING)

22. Disenchantment

"I'm thinking about having a Christmas party this Saturday. Do you want to come?" Nick ask, sitting down next to me. He has to raise his voice over the roar of students surrounding us. It always amazed me how between shoving their faces, teenagers were still about to make this much noise.

"Christmas party?" I ask.

"I have one every year, I just completely forgot about it because of everything that's been going on."

Nick and I had wanted to stay at the hospital with Troy. It's been a week since he was found on that lady's doorstep. The doctors had said that if he did well within the next few days, he could go home. That would be just enough time for him to get comfortable with home life before the party. He couldn't go back to school for now, but they were hopping that that could happen soon.

I was praying for that to happen. With two weeks left before we packed up and moved to Italy, I wanted as much time as possible with Troy. I hadn't been able to hang out with him much before he disappeared, and I really wanted to change that. If the doctors wouldn't let him go back to school, that wouldn't really happen.

"Are we invited?" Romul raises a skeptical eyebrow at Nick. I beam in approval. The last time I was invited to a party, Romul acted all jealous and flustered Troy. This time he was behaving like a normal human being and asking in a civil way.

I was thankful that he had moved past being angry with Nick. Now it was like that day in the hall never happened and they were the best of buds. I have even seen them hanging out by themselves without me there as a mediator.

Peter looks up from his pancakes and nods, eagerly. Where he got pancakes from, I couldn't guess. It was most likely his charm with the lunch ladies. He must have told them that homemade pancakes were his absolute favorite food, and they made them.

"I want to go to a party where I don't get my ass handed to me." He says.

I nod in agreement. "That would be nice."

"It's not going to be the movie night." Nick explains. "I don't want that to happen again. And yes, both you and Peter are invited, Romul."

Romul smiles, pleased with himself. He nods and goes back to working on homework that he didn't do last night.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Guests start to arrive just as Ms. Rainer and I set out the last plate of cheese and crackers. They come in from the winter storm and throw their coats on the large arm chair by the door before continuing inside, rubbing their arms to warm up.

Apparently it was tradition for the guests to wear ugly christmas sweaters at Nick's annual Christmas party. When I found that out I panicked because I didn't own any ugly Christmas sweaters. I didn't own any Christmas shirts, period. This led to a last minute Wal-Mart stop on the way here.

Romul didn't like the sweater idea all too well. He thought it was ridiculous and complained of the itchy material, but I thought he looked adorable in his "Merry Whatever" black and red Grumpy Cat sweater.

Peter, on the other hand, loved the idea. He bought his sweater accidently two sizes too big, but had successfully managed to tuck it into his black jeans so that it looked like he bought it that way on purpose. He looked stylish with his two-toned poofy hair, glasses, and his "Oh Balls!" sweater.

My own outfit was nothing short of legendary. It was a burgundy sweater that said "Santa's Favorite Ho" written on it. I had thought I looked good in light colored jeans and black high-top converse, my hair in their stereotypical Dutch braid pigtails because I was too lazy to do anything else. None of us were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters, but it was enough that we would be accepted into the house.