Josie Guerrero is focused on one thing: getting accepted into the prestigious art studies program within the Art School at the University of Southern Washington. With thirteen weeks to create her sophomore portfolio, she knows she can't afford any d...
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Since starting here at USW, I've been to my fair share of parties.
From the ones that Halle would drag me to when she matched with a frat boy cute enough to actually leave the house for to the parties in the art studio celebrating submitting midterm projects on time, but none of those have come close to the party that's currently overflowing out of Micah's house and onto the front lawn as we pull up in Halle's Jeep.
The house is dimly lit, the only source of light coming out in flashes of technicolor, flickering through the windows and illuminating the front walkway in splashes of purple, blue, and orange. When Halle finds the only open parking spot on the entire block a few houses down, I watch as a crowd of drunk students stumbles out of the house and onto the lawn, a cloud of smoke following them as they go.
Halle puts the car in park, the dread already pooling in her eyes as she looks up at the house. It's the same feeling that's starting to make my chest feel tight and achy. We've never been big on parties, which is kind of ironic since her moms are possibly two of the biggest party lovers that I've ever met. I take a deep breath and follow her gaze up to the house, smiling when I remember that Micah is inside waiting for me.
I glance into the rearview to see Olivia staring out at the house.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Liv?" I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt to get a better look at her.
Her long hair falls down her back in perfect curls and the shimmery golden-hued eyeshadow smoking out her emerald eyes glistens like starlight, even in the dimly lit car. It's a bright contrast to the back mini skirt and forest green satin fabric wrapping around her chest in a crisscross design, tapering into two thin straps tied around the back of her neck while leaving nearly her entire back exposed. When she smooths her hands over the short black skirt and looks up at us, my chest tightens even more at the broken look in her eyes.
I want to tell Halle to forget about it, to just drive us back home so we can change into pajamas and have another heart-to-heart about why Luke McConnell sucks, but I know that's not what Olivia wants. I know she genuinely thinks this is going to be good for her. That it'll be good to see him again. That it'll give her the closure she needs.
"Yeah, of course, tonight's going to be great. Plus, you look too good for Micah to not see you." She smiles up at me, but I think she can tell I'm still worried because she shakes her head softly. "I'm good, Jo, I swear. My winged eyeliner looks impeccable tonight, and we don't waste good makeup on stupid boys."
She grins at her friend Gracie sitting in the backseat beside her before pushing open the door and sliding out. The sound of her heels hitting the asphalt below rings out, and I glance over at Halle again. We both nod in a mutual we need to keep an eye on her tonight way before sighing and sliding out too.
The short hem of my corset dress blows around my upper thighs in the late September breeze, and I pull my duffle bag further up onto my shoulder, making sure Winnie is securely tucked inside with my pajamas and the few choice nighttime routine toiletries that I brought along with me. I'll admit that sleeping over at Micah's house seemed like a much better idea last night when I agreed to it. But now that I'm thinking about it, about what his idea of a sleepover with a friend with benefits means, about what he's going to expect from me, I'm starting to think this was a mistake.
