Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Katy

Arriving home after school with Luke’s address written on a folded up napkin in my pockets, since that’s where I would be meeting the boys before heading to the party, I took note of the dusty pickup truck parked in the driveway.

Smiling to myself I then took the front steps two at a time up to the porch. Pulling open the unlocked front door with ease I stepped inside, narrowly avoiding tripping over the large pair of converse which had been kicked off carelessly on the floor.

Nudging them out of the way, I closed the door behind me and adjusting my backpack on my shoulder, shuffled through the seemingly ever growing piles of crap to the living room where my Mom sat watching Full House.

“Hey.” I greeted.

“How was school?” she asked, licking Cheetos dust from her fingertips.

“Okay.” I replied, “I um… I got invited to hang out with some people tonight?”

Frowning, she turned to look at me.

“What?” she demanded.

“I got invited to go hang out with some people tonight.” I repeated, “They seem really nice.”

“Who are these people?” she asked.

“Just some kids I eat lunch with.” I replied.

Hesitating, she dipped her hand into the bag of chips in her lap, “You’re not going to come home knocked up are you?”

“What?” I cried, “No, no come on. Look at me.”

Nodding she turned back to the TV.

“So is that a yes?” I asked slowly.

“Don’t be home late.” She muttered.

“I won’t.” I breathed out, “I promise.”

Nodding, she zoned out once again.

“I saw Ashton’s car.” I said casually.

“They’re in your room I think.” She mumbled.

“Okay.” I sighed, seeing that her attention was once again glued to the television and would stay that way.

Turning, I made my way through the mounds of crap to my bedroom where I found Sam and Ashton sitting on my bed coloring in one of the forty-seven kitten themed coloring books my Mom had purchased when she thought Sam would be a Samantha.

Ashton was Dorothy’s ex, if you could call him that. They’d been friends in high school and hooked up once after a drunken life bringing Sam into existence. Dorothy didn’t want anything to do with him after that,  but she didn’t want anything to do with anyone, so Ashton still came around, mainly for Sam’s benefit and to drop off money and diapers.

“Katy!” Sam said eagerly, bouncing on my bed, “Look Daddy came!”

“I can see that.” I replied, feigning enthusiasm.

“Hey.” Ashton greeted awkwardly, running his fingertips through his dirty blonde, curly hair which he had passed down to his son, “I hope you don’t mind that we’re in here.”

“I don’t.” I replied, “I’m leaving soon anyway.”

“Where you go?” Sam asked, cocking his head to the side.

“A party.” I answered walking over to my closet and pulling it open.

“What’s a party?” Sam questioned.

Realizing that the only form of celebration he knew was a candle on a Hostess cake every February third, I wracked my brain trying to come up with an answer.

“It’s when people go hang out together.” Ashton replied lifting Sam onto his lap, “Sometimes they dance, or drink, or do other things?”

Realizing the second part of his explanation was for my benefit I turned back to the bed and found him watching me with a knowing look on his face.

“What?” I sighed.

“Since when do you go to parties?” he questioned.

“Since I got invited to one.” I replied.

“Who’s party?” he pressed.

“Some kid from school.” I sighed, unbraiding my hair, letting it tumble around my shoulders in loose waves.

“Who are you going with?”

“Some kids.”

“Good kids?”

“Yeah.”

“Boys?”

Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Do you have a point Ashton?”

“Parties aren’t as fun as they’re chalked up to be.” He replied playing with Sam’s small fingertips, “It’s not like the movies.”

“Okay?”

“Everyone gets drunk, it’s truthfully kind of boring, bjs are handed out like goodie bags, I think you’re expecting cake and balloons Katy and I don’t want you to be disappointed or get there and be uncomfortable.”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” I demanded, getting slightly annoyed with the way Ashton constantly felt the need to insert himself in to my life playing the older brother roll.

“Because you like reading classic literature and crocheting pot holders, you’re not exactly party material?”

“You don’t know anything.” I snapped.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Ashton sighed in defeat.

Looking down at my sweatshirt which was saturated with sweat from the long walk home, I pulled it over my head, replacing it with a purple hoodie.

“Can I drive you at least?” Ashton asked, taking away the marker Sam was using to write on his stomach.

“I have a ride.” I replied.

“They’re picking you up?” he questioned.

“No.” I sighed, “I’m meeting them at one of their houses and then we’re driving to the party together.”

“Let me drive you there then.” Ashton insisted.

I hesitated.

“Please, you’re not going to walk home in the dark, I’ll have to pick you up after the party anyway.”

“Okay.” I mumbled, giving in before handing him the napkin with Luke’s address.