Jori Collections: 2017-2021

(4.25.18) Damn Eyes - M, 6.2k [A*]

["It isn't a party you want to be seen at. But, perhaps, it's a party you need."]

The television never seemed so boring until now, when you find yourself beginning to blink languidly at the screen. Beside you there's irritable smacking as she continues to devour her eggplant whole, earning a firm arch of a brow. She blinks back at your staring diligently. "What?" You decide not to answer, instead dragging your attention to the most dull show you'll ever watch: A House's Kitchen Nightmare; you swear it would've been better as a cooking show, not some psychological horror drawl. The end of the odd snack is then tossed towards the coffee table (missing the bowl completely) before your sister groans quietly. "Tori," she continues anyway, "what party are you going to again?"

"You're not invited," you reply blandly.

Trina scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I know and I don't want to go. See? But I'm asking where you're going."

"Well," you begin, "it's not far. It's one of John Stavor's parties. You know, the blond?"

"Oh yeah... Better watch out, there. I went to one of their parties when I was a sophomore when his brother was a senior."

Intrigued - since your sister's party life is definitely more interesting than some man cradling himself in a corner (for the fiftieth time within the episode) - you ask, "What do you mean?" Trina pauses, watching you with an all too familiar gaze. She wants something. And, not a moment later, she points towards the large bowl of chips on the coffee table. "You know," your hand jerks the bowl into her greedy hands, "you could've gotten that yourself. Anyway, what?"

"They have a bunch of vodka and shit like that -" you hate how that sounds, especially since nobody else told you that you had the possibility of getting drunk "- and the cops were called while I was there... I had to run home because it was Dad."

"Wait, you were at that party?" You give a harsh laugh, vividly recalling how the two of you both sat down at the table, receiving a firm retelling of his night with the Stavor party. Of course, her furious foot-tapping was never explained until now. Trina nods, giving a meek - if not, somewhat proud - smile. "So, will I have to tonight?"

Trina shrugs. "Dunno. They don't get called every year. But I'd just leave a bit early on, just in case." She then looks at her bowl of chips, her brows furrowing. "Tori, go get me some popcorn."

"I'm not your servant," you grumble. "And besides, Beck will be here any minute, and I can't start making something when you expect me to give it to you on a silver platter."

She ignores your last comment. "Oh?" You grimace with annoyance as she wiggles her eyebrows - you know exactly what Trina's getting at. "You're going with Beck now? Got Jade out of the way and-"

"Trina, no. It's not like that," you snap, feeling something hot and rancid bubble at the base of your gut. It isn't the first time, either, that you've felt this way. And it wouldn't be the last. "He just offered to pick me up," you continue, "so I took him up on it. Nothing up with a friend bringing a friend over, right?" You hate how she looks at you with a hitched smirk across her lips, unconvinced. "Trina?" you ask warningly.

Your sister only shrugs, taking a chip to her nose. "Oh nothing, nothing..." she murmurs mischievously, chewing on the same chip. "Just wondering if he's your boyfriend or boy-toy."

"He is just a friend," you growl. The doorbell rings, and you don't know if it's your free ticket to get out of the conversation, or a free ticket to a conversation for another time. You start from the couch, patting your simple shirt and jeans before quickly sliding into heels. You picture Trina still sporting her smile as you stride towards the door; when you turn around, she is. "I'll be back later."