Lost in the Rhythm

Midwest Winters Should be Illegal

Cold, numb, and grouchy, Amity slammed the door behind her and paused in the doorway to shake off her snow-coated boots. She stalked through the wide living room and past her mother, Odalia, who was seated on the velvet couch. She didn't even spare her mother a passing glance. Instead, she headed straight for the spiraling staircase, too achy and tired to care about any rebukes she'd have to endure.

"Amity, honey?" Odalia called loftily. "Don't stomp so loud on the stairs, please."

"Whatever," Amity said gruffly. When she reached her room, she sat down on her bed and ran a hand through her hair.  It had been frozen through, and hung like icicles from her head. She resisted a sigh. Why had Odalia forced her to go shovel the (unfairly long, no less) driveway right after she'd showered? What a start to her morning. Saturdays existed so she could have a break from the emotional demands of school, not so that she could do favors for her mom.

And Odalia only ever made her do work when she wanted something. Or when she was about to start yelling.

And Amity couldn't care less which it would end up being.

She rolled over onto her back and grabbed her phone from her nightstand. A notification flashed across her screen, and her first instinct was to ignore it. It was a text from Boscha.

Like she ever felt mentally strong enough to deal with that girl.

The text itself piqued her interest, though. Hey i gotta ask u abt something, it read. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that if she didn't find out immediately what that "something" was, it'd nag at her all day. So, against her better judgement, she opened it.

what

Boscha's three bubbles appeared instantly. Can i call u. It is a MUCH better story out loud

yeah, sure. whatever

The phone rang and Amity picked it up, selecting speaker so she didn't have to press her cold phone to her still-frozen ears. "Blight!" Boscha greeted her delightedly. "Boy, have I got the tea for you!"

"I thought we both agreed to leave that expression in 2019."

"I never agreed to it. Hey, before I tell you, Skara and I have been making plans. Do you wanna go out with us for drinks on Tuesday night?"

Amity raised an eyebrow at her invisible audience. "The night of the concert?"

"Exactly. Concert nights are always hell, so we might as well make them fun."

"It depends." She grabbed a pillow from the foot of her bed and held it to her chest, placing her phone back on her nightstand. "What exactly do you mean by that? Because I could interpret that multiple ways, and I'm not sure if I-"

"Have you forgotten that my parents own the biggest bar on this side of Bonesborough?" Boscha interrupted. "With the absolute best karaoke rooms?"

"Yeah, okay." She decided right then that this conversation was not worth her time. "You are seventeen. I am seventeen."

"And?"

"They'd never let you in."

"Ha!" Her friend snorted. "You know my parents don't give two shits about that kind of thing. It'll be the best night ever. Stop being a wet blanket, Ami."

"Maybe I have other plans."

"You don't."

"Doesn't matter," Amity said tersely, already itching to hang up. "I reserve the right to refuse whatever social outings I please."