“IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT!!”
I jump slightly, surprised by the outburst. My eyeliner veers off course and a sloppy line of black extends from the corner of my eye. I turn to my right and smack Sonny over the head, making him squeal.
“You sound like a girl.” I mutter, grabbing a tissue and fixing my makeup. He giggles, further proving my point, and starts fixing his hair. “Fuuuuuuck shit up, Leigh. You screwed my hair.”
I scrunched up my face and laughed at my reflection. “God, Sonny, I didn’t think it was possible for anybody to spend more time on their hair than me. I stand corrected.” I grin at his reflection, and he grins back. I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get more volume.
I finish my eyeliner and move to put it away, when Sonny snatches it from my hand. He looks at it for a moment, then looks at his reflection. He looks back and forth for a moment, and I feel a smile stretching it’s away across my face. Then he leans forward, one hand on his hip and his mouth hanging open, and draws a quick, thick line of black under one of his eyes. He leans back to look at it, and slowly reaches up to smear it a little.
I watch in amusement as he stares at his reflection for a moment, his mouth still hanging slightly open, and repeats the process with the other eye. He finishes, puts the cap on the liner, and puts it on the desk beside him. He grabs my red eye shadow and smears some around his eyes as well, smiling as he finishes.
I wonder what he would do if I jumped on him and attempted to bang him.
“You like it?” he asks, grinning widely. He spins around in a circle jokingly and I study his appearance. I look him up and down, taking in the somewhat tight jeans, checkered belt and fitted black t-shirt. I cross my arms, pretending to think it over. Honestly, I don’t like it, I love it. It reminds me of when Sonny and I occasionally hit the mall, getting dressed up like emo kids and walking up to random people talking in depressed voices. But this time we’re going to a party, where he’ll be spending all his time with his girlfriend and I’ll be sitting in the corner refusing drinks from strangers.
“Ugh, you look… gay.” I lie, and return my gaze to the mirror to smear on a bit of pink eye shadow, trying not to smile as I hear Sonny gasp. “You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m pretty!” he squeaks, his voice high-pitched. I laugh out loud suddenly and awkwardly, bending over slightly and almost dropping the eye shadow. Sonny joins in, his own giggle more girly than mine.
“Leigh, look!” he exclaims suddenly. I straighten up and watch as he smiles widely in the mirror, scrunching up his whole face and squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah?” I ask, confused. “It’s your reflection, and you’re smiling. Good job Sonny, you’ve discovered how to use a mirror.”
“No, Leigh, like…” he stops smiling and looks frustrated. He thinks for a moment, then smiles again. “Hey Leigh, ask me if I’m a carrot!” I raise an eyebrow, confused.
“Okay… are you a carrot?” I ask, still looking at him weird. “NO!” he shouts suddenly, bursting out laughing. I watch for a moment with wide eyes, before giving in and laughing as well. Sonny grabs my arm suddenly and points to the mirror. I look at the reflection as he points at my scrunched up face, then at his. “Don’t you see!” he says, still giggling.
“Uhm, yeah?” I say, though I don’t get the joke. “Ug, Leigh, we have the same face when we laugh! See, looooook.” He turns his head at an angle and smiles widely, closing his eyes. I laugh again, more of a shake-slightly-and-don’t-actually-make-any-noise kind of laugh. “Yeah!” he shouts. “Right there! See how you’re laughing right now? And your face is all scrunched up?! Mine does that two!”
I shake my head, still smiling, and run my fingers through my hair, poofing it up and disheveling it a little more. “Ready to go?” I ask, watching as he stares at his smiling reflection. He turns and looks me up and down. “Uh, yeah, but you’re not.” He replies, shaking his finger in my face.
I frown, looking down at my black Joker shirt and faded skinny jeans. “Am I missing something? Because I think I look fine.” I eye Sonny suspiciously as he pushes me aside and starts digging through my closet. “Yeah, you look like you’re just going somewhere, like the mall or something. You need to look like you’re going to a party!” I watch with a disgusted face as he tosses a skirt at me and asks where my fishnet stockings are.
“Sorry Sonny, but I only wear that skirt over jeans. I’m not wearing that by itself.” I reply, shaking my head at the mini skirt. Sonny sticks out his bottom lip, resting his hands on his hips. “Sorry babe, but you’re wearing it. You’ll look sexy!”
I roll my eyes, and point towards the door. “Get out and let me get changed.”
Sonny grins, quickly skipping out the door and shutting it behind him; I can faintly hear him singing a song as he waits. I look down at the skirt and make a face, seriously not wanting to wear it. Screw this. I toss the skirt aside and pull on my new black skinny jeans covered with a leopard spot pattern. I glance at the high heels Sonny had also set aside, and grab a pair of flats instead.
I take one last glance in the mirror, mess with my hair again, and leave the room. I smile to myself as Sonny follows me out the front door and towards his car. “Leigh? You’re not wearing the skirt… why aren’t you wearing the skirt? Did I miss something? I definitely left the room so you could put that skirt on, and yet, you didn’t…”
“I’m not wearing the skirt, Sonny, because I’m trying this new thing where I look hot without looking like a whore.” Sonny stares at me, dumbfounded, and then smiles widely, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and looking up at me through his eyelashes. “Well, you did a very good job at that.” I shake my head as I climb into the passenger seat, watching him strut over to the driver’s side, purposely shaking his hips. This boy will be the death of me.
The drive to the party was pretty uneventful. Sonny talked the whole time about random things while playing with the radio, and I stared out the window, dreading the night ahead of us. Sure, parties are cool, but not when you only know one person. Not to mention that person is sure to get drunk, so he won’t be very reliable.
When we pulled up to Ashley’s house, Sonny gave me a funny look, sort of like he was trying to figure something out, figure me out. I shrugged it off and grimaced as Ashley skipped out her door and straight to the car, walking around and towards the passenger side. She paused when she noticed me, smiling at me hesitantly. I smiled back as I understood why Sonny has looked at me weird a moment ago. Best friends get the front seat, bitch.
She hesitated for only a second, and climbed into the back seat. I could tell Sonny was a bit on edge, wondering if he should have asked me to get in the back. Too bad, whores get the backseat.
“It’s safe to say you dig the backseat.” I quoted, smiling to myself. Ashley laughed. “Hah, I love that song!” I frowned. Stop laughing dammit; you’re supposed to hate me like I hate you. I glanced at her through the rearview mirror, picking out all the things I hated.
Bleach blond hair? Ugh, gag me. Black wholes painted on her eyes, like a raccoon? Way to stand out from the armies of emo clones. A black tank top with the Aphex Twin emblem, probably trying to impress Sonny? Been there, done that, whore. A plaid skirt that was way too short, and just barely covering her thighs? Gosh, how original. Old converse and knee-high socks? C’mon kid, you can do way better than that.
Okay, so that’s a bunch of bullshit. Bleach blond hair looks good on some people, especially pared with eyeliner. The tank top didn’t suffocate her boobs, the skirt wasn’t that short, and the converse/sock combination was kind of cute. But I sure as hell wouldn’t admit any of that out loud. Stupid whore.
We pulled up on the side of the road by what’s-his-face’s house, and the event I’d been dreading was coming up way too fast. It wasn’t even that dark outside, it was probably about 8:00 p.m., and there was already somebody laying face down on the lawn and hardly any places to park. I frowned, not looking forward to this night at all. Sure, parties have cute, horny teenage boys, who are great and all, but I prefer to meet them at open places like the mall, where they can’t intoxicate you and drag you upstairs to fuck.
Oh joy, parties are so fun.
I exhaled sharply, climbing out of the car and following Sonny towards the house. “Hey Sonny!” Ashley called, stopping beside me and waving at him. I stopped walking too, unsure. “We’ll catch up in a second, okay? We’re going to have some girl talk.” Girl talk? Oh, hell no.
Sonny furrowed his eyebrows, tugging on one of his lip rings, debating. Come on Sonny, tell her to fuck off and leave me alone. You can do it, boy.
I feel like I’m talking to a dog.
After a second he shrugged, smiled, and walked away. I inwardly groaned, wishing I had a nice big rock to throw at him. Come on, God, I’d be careful not to mess up his face or kill him, I promise.
I looked around, hoping a rock would magically appear. Since there weren’t any decent rocks, I finally turned and faced Ashley, trying to smile. I hope she calls me names and tells me I’m a threat to her relationship, blah blah blah. Then she can attempt to throw a punch and I can have a legit excuse to beat the hell out of her. That mental image must have made my smile more convincing, because she smiled back, looking relieved.
“I’m sorry if I scared you with the ‘girl talk’ line, it probably sounded like I was about to ask you to have a sleepover with sappy movies and fattening foods or something. Ugh, if somebody asked me to do something like that, I’d probably never talk to them ever again.” She chuckled, pushing back some hair that had escaped her ponytail. I laughed along lightly, waiting for her to get to the point.
“But, anyways, let me get to the point.”
I’ve been letting you get to point, you’ve just been… not getting to the point. Shut up Leigh, that sentence was poorly constructed. *slap* You deserved that.
“So I know you don’t really know anybody who will be at the party; Sonny told me you were a bit worried about being left out and that you didn’t even really want to come. I also know it probably seems like Sonny will be with me the whole night, but that’s not how it’s going to go down.
“I mean, usually, we just get fucked up. But since you’re here and all, I just want you to know you won’t be ditched just because he has a girlfriend. You’re still his best friend, and he’s still going to be hanging out with you a lot tonight, you know? And I’ll have other friends to hang out with; I won’t be hanging out with you the whole time, forcing my way into your conversation with Sonny and making things uncomfortable.
“I go to parties sometimes with a friend and her boyfriend, and I always get this ridiculous picture in my head, where I’m trying to talk to my friend but she’s ignoring me and making out with her boyfriend, and I’m pretty much left to talk to drunken strangers.” She took in a breath loudly, exaggerating her rant, and laughed. “Wow, that was a long-ass speech.”
I smiled tolerantly. “Don’t worry about it, I mean, it’s nice of you to notice all of that and go through the trouble of trying to make me more comfortable. It’s okay though, I should know some people. Even if I don’t know anybody, it’s still fun to watch drunk people act like idiots.” Wow. I managed to be nice! Not a single sarcastic thing in that short rant. I’m proud of myself.
She grinned, nodding. “It’s just that I understand the situation all too well, and you’re going to have fun tonight, whether you want to or not.” She joked, linking her arm with mine and setting off towards the house. Oh man, you better not think we’re best friends or anything like that. Ugh. I should have been more of a sarcastic bitch.
I stepped carefully over the guy laying on the lawn face down, shaking my head. Lucky bastard, I wish I was passed out without a care in the world. Maybe I should get drunk tonight.
Sonny Moore is making me doubt my morals.
