They Walk

Chapter Two

Ten minutes later finds me staring at my reflection in the mirror.

Claire is currently fussing in the depths of my closet searching for her perfect party outfit. One would think that since I’m so much shorter than her, nothing of mine would fit. Wrong. Well…it’s kind of true I guess, not that she cares. The tighter and shorter the better, she always says.

Which is why I’m wondering what the heck came over me, when I bought this skirt last summer. It’s both tight and short, and not something I usually wear. I’m more of a Capri and cardigan girl. Apparently I was thinking of her when I bought this little black mini. Narrowing my eye’s I turn back and forth, not liking how my legs look so scrawny.

Groaning, I stomp around to face the closet monster.

“Claire.” I whine. “This isn’t going to work for me.”

Another skirt shoots out of the abyss at me with no reply from the monster within. I don’t bother with trying it on. There is no way my legs are going to be shown off tonight with any type of skirt no matter of the length of color.

Maybe if I was going to be alone with Matt, then it would be a distinct possibility.

Since that’s clearly not on the agenda for tonight, I make my way to my dresser on the other side of the room. Not being picky, I dig in the drawers for whatever happens to be on top.

“Seriously Claire, you’ve already got me going tonight. Why do you have to dress me up to? Just pick something for yourself already.” I mumble halfheartedly.

Finding jean and a graphic tee, I turn around to make my way to the bathroom. I come to standstill and drop the clothes in my hands. A girly sounding yip slips past my parted lips, as I just about jump a foot off the ground, all before I can even move one step.

Claire stands before me with her hands on her hips. Obviously she has mastered the art of being a ninja.

“For the love of mike woman!” I am literally gasping as I say this. Who knew she could be so stealthy. “What the freaking hell? Get a friggen bell will you!”

She has the nerve to glare at me, like I am the one that scared her or something.

“Mags, come on. You have to look hot tonight. We are actually going out to a party, with people, people who will also probably look hot.” She literally stamps her foot at me. “Plus drinks will most likely be served.”

I shrug as I grab for the clothes at my feet.

“Well…if there is alcohol…then why do I even have to look hot? No one will even remember who I am after an hour or so.” I say as I try to make a bee line around her.

Unfortunately she’s not convinced. Like the before mentioned ninja, she blocks my path. Her eyes go all beady as she narrows them at me. Dude, she is so going to make one terrifying mom one day.

I shudder at the thought.

“That’s reason enough isn’t it?” She sparkles, the beadiness fading back into her scary innards. “You’ll have to try even harder to impress the inebriated. Besides, I know Matt will love it. For me, please?”

Dammit.

She is always doing this to me, playing the whole Matt card thing.

It totally sucks for me that it works every time. She is right too. I know he would love it if I tried to look a little sexy, even if he’ll only end up probably picking on me for it. I always look like I’m playing dress up in fancy none comfy clothes.

I know I should just give in. She’ll never stop being infuriating if I don’t. She never does.

I sigh. “Fine, you win. I’ll do my hair and use that weird glitter face lotion you got me for Christmas.” I wiggle one boney finger at her as she backs away with a knowing smile. “But that’s all you’re getting out of me tonight, so don’t even try anything girlie.”

She throws her hands in the air in surrender. Then marches back over to my closet. The digging commences for a second before she turns back to me. My heart rate spikes at the sight of her. God I’m such a chicken. I should have known she’d end up forcing me into wearing something I’d hate.

It happens every time and yet I’m still shocked that it occurs.

But something strange happens next. She eyes the skirt I’m still wearing and says. “Let me have that skirt you tried on, I think I want to wear it.”

Ha! I so win this round, yay me!

Of course, by the time Dan come’s barging into my room forty minutes later to see if we’re ready, I’m not so sure of my win. Mostly because I have a serious aversion to getting dressed up. Oh the horror, I know. What girl hates getting dressed up right? Well…she would be me.

I must say though, I am rather satisfied with my hair tonight. It’s usually a giant mass of frizziness. Now it falls down my back in soft waves. God bless spray in conditioner. It almost makes me kind of excited to be going out…almost, but not quite. How I became so brilliantly optimistic at my young age surrounded by outgoing family and friends I’ll never know. Clearly they all see something beneath my negative charge of an outlook on life, which is good. Otherwise I’d be very much of a loner. And that I am not.

Yet.

Getting downstairs is a lot of work. I blame Clare. She’s buzzing with excitement, something I lack. If I had to compare her to anything, I’d say she resembles that of a lightning rod currently, only because she is bouncing in her way too high heels. Clearly she’s excited to move onto her next conquest. Something tells me that she’ll be disappearing on me as soon as we get to the party. In fact, if she had any sort of super power, it would totally be teleportation. Waiting is like torture for her, even if it is only for twenty more minutes for the drive.

Thank goodness I’ll have Matt to talk to later on. If anything else it’ll be nice to be able to count on the antisocial connection we share. Really I should say the connection that I kind of force on him, especially since he’s the opposite of antisocial. Heck, the boy has a job already. He’s completely comfortable with being social, or as much as a worker at a pizza restaurant has to be. With our little predicament this evening, I might be flying solo without my boyfriend backup. When I called him earlier to change our plans, he was still at work. Something came up with one of his coworkers, so he had to stay until closing time.

He promised to be look for me after, so here’s hoping it won’t be too long till his arrival; crosses fingers.

When the three of us finally come to a stop at the base of the stares, I peek around the bouncing Claire to find Maria waiting for us at the door. Her face lights up when Dan goes to give her a kiss. They act like it’s been a lifetime since they’ve embraced one another, even though he was upstairs less than a minute. I think it’s sweet. But then, that’s our Maria. She’s the embodiment of sweet, with her long blonde hair and rosy cherub face. She’s good for my punk brother. She blushes bright pink when he steps back from her. It’s not long before she smiles and shyly glances away from mine and Clare’s stares. Acknowledging the interaction of the two of them is something I avoid, partly because our Maria scares easily, but also because it’s totally gross to watch them go at it.

Speaking of those that would rather avoid pda like the plague. I can’t help looking around the entry hall for my mother. She is usually pretty adamant about these kinds of things, but the house is quiet.

“No one’s home, she already left to meet dad for that gallery thing in the city.” Dan quips seeing my wandering eyes.

Taking in the silence, I realize that’s right. Naturally I should’ve already known the house is empty, but being observant is not one of my best qualities. Our dad is a busy accountant who works mostly is the city. He and mom don’t really get out too much short of going to work or keeping us kids preoccupied with none house burning activities and so, when a client of his hands out tickets for some fancy art show in Brunswick, he can’t very well turn the opportunity down. Mom may have mentioned at some point that they were going to get a late dinner after and wouldn’t be home until sometime late.

Now I know why I wanted plans alone with Matt tonight.

The house will be empty.

This party better be worth it, if not Claire owes me, big time.

Secretly hoping I have a reason to stay home now, I say “So if they have the cars, how are we getting to this grand party?”

No such luck as Maria’s blush darkens.

“I have my car, and don’t mind driving us.” She says in a quiet voice. “They’re more than enough room.”

See? She is way too sweet for words and far too nice. How my loud mouth joker of a brother managed to get such a nice girl, I have no clue. He flashes one of his pleased smiles and places an arm around her shoulder pulling her close.

“So, we’re good to go.” He pauses to give me a wide cheeky grin, this is never good. “Just one more stop to make though…Gabe is coming with us too.”

For some reason the urge to smack him rises inside me, but this isn’t new. What’s new is his aspiring need to throw his stupid best friend and the boy’s hatred of me right in my face. Either I’m getting worse at perfecting my poker face or Claire just knows me too well, because in the next instant she is fully facing me.

Effectively blocking Dan from my view, she places her hands over her bored eyes as if warding off my anger.

“Oh boy, here we go.” Claire says.

Already fuming, I don’t even here her. Of all the guys at our small town school, my brother just has to befriend the biggest jerk. Seriously, the boy is like my nemesis. He never has anything nice to say, at least to me anyways. Even when I first met him three years ago, it was an instant dislike. I honestly wouldn’t mind never seeing him again, ever, but he just has this way about him. While it’s pretty an annoying way, it also seems to get under my skin and not in the way I’d like.

Then there is the fact that he’s far too cocky for his own good. Is it wrong that I take great pleasure in constantly putting him in his place? No, yes, maybe...doesn’t matter, because I totally do.

With Matt not around to act as a buffer, all I need for tonight is to have Gabe tease me. He tends to be tamer in his torture techniques if Matt’s around. If memory serves me right, then I swear Gabe got a Motorcycle this past spring. I’m one to know, he’s always asking me to ride with him so he can be a bad influence. Or so he says.

So what’s all this needing a ride nonsense.

“Doesn’t he have his own death trap to drag him to the party?” I ask Dan, as I try not to sound overly irritated.

“He does, but it’s in the shop. I offered for him to come along, so stop whining. He’s not that bad.”

I snort in disbelief and shake my head. Not that bad, my left foot.

Figures his motorcycle would break down, now of all nights, not that I’d ever trust those things. But, as to not let it show that he bothers me so much, or to come off as whiny, I just shrug. Yup that’s me, not bothered by punk boys.

Is it believable though?

Dan just laughs.

Nope, I’m more see-through than a three-way mirror.

By the time he ushers us out to Marias car, where he immediately calls for shotgun by the way, I’m convinced there is literally steam pouring out of my ears. Shivering, I reach for the backseat door wishing I had remembered to snag a jacket. It’s oddly cool for a late June night, or maybe it’s not really. We do live in Maine, so no one can ever try to guess how the weather will turn out.

What really makes me feel cold is the fact that it’s too quiet out.

Usually at this time of night, I can hear crickets and frogs going at it, but tonight it’s silent. I have to wonder if maybe a storm is coming, usually things get quiet around these parts before something happens. I just hope we’re home before the floodgates open.

Getting in the car beside Claire, I push these thoughts out of my head.