Kidnapped

Chapter 2

I paced anxiously in front of my window, pausing every once in a while to check outside. It was 9:30, and the party started at 9:45. My parents had gone to bed a half hour before, but I made sure to tell Marcy to pick me up just before the party started. Now I was busy being impatient.

I tapped my foot in aggravation, though I'm sure that jitters and nerves were helping with the butterflies in my stomach. Forget butterflies, I had jellyfish. I hated disobeying my parents, and as I fiddled with my cell phone, I realized this was probably the actual first time I consciously was. I mean, I'd done some bad things when I was six or seven years old (don't even get me started on the frying pan incident) but once I hit ten years old, BAM, I'm a good girl.

As I stomped around in my room, I glanced in the mirror briefly. My long, mousy brown hair was curled and pulled up into a loose bun, and my short, black dress clung to my body (as if I actually had curves to show off). I'd added some black leggings, too, since I'm just weird about having my bare skin showing. I'd added a little gold eye-shadow, too, but other than that, I was untouched by makeup.

"Where are they?" I muttered, annoyed, under my breath. I stamped my foot angrily on the floor, and succeeded in shaking the framed picture on a shelf. My room is small, with just enough room for a twin bed, a bookshelf crammed with books and other assorted random items, a closet stuffed with wrinkled clothes, and a dresser overflowing with more wrinkled clothes. I'm not much on being neat, though I manage well enough.

Suddenly, I heard a car pull up in the street. Lights chased shadows across the walls of my room as I quickly pressed my ear up against my door, listening for any sounds of movement outside, before I crept out silently. Sneaking down the hallway, my phone buzzed in my hand, the vibrations sending tingles up my arm. Words flashed across the screen: We're just outside. Ready when you are.

I smiled in the dark, despite my jitters. Creeping past my parent's room, I opened the front door with a creak, closed it behind me carefully, and dashed out to the waiting car. I swung open the car door to see Marcy's grinning face welcoming me. "Hey there, idiot," She greeted me.

"What's up, stupid?" I asked, grinning, using our regular insults.

"Nothing except the heart attack you gave me when you told me you weren't coming," Marcy replied sarcastically, signaling to her older brother at the wheel to start driving. "What was up with your dad anyways?"

I considered my best friend's face as I carefully considered my answer. With her bright strawberry-blond hair curling into thick, perfect locks around her slender neck, her clear, ocean-blue eyes, and her bright blue dress, she looked a little like a princess in three inch heels. Marcy had been my best friend since third grade, when we met on an unfortunate surprise trip to the principal's office (I won't go into details, but let's just say that Marcy doesn't exactly have a history as a 'goodie-goodie'). Since then, we've been inseparable, despite the obvious fact that she gets me into trouble non-stop.

"He was being paranoid," I said blandly. "He thought that my best friend's house that's three blocks away was too dangerous to go to."

Marcy blinked in surprise. "Jeez, I never knew your dad was so...stiff. Didn't he know you'd be perfectly safe with me?"

I laughed at this. "Safe?" I giggled. "With you? Since when?"

Marcy rolled her eyes, flipping her hair in defeat. "Yes, fine," she replied sarcastically. "Hilarious. I've gotten you in trouble a few times--"

I coughed, hiding another chuckle, but Marcy purposely ignored me and forged on.

"--but still, your dad knows me well enough to know that I would never, ever let anything happen to his idiot daughter over here." She finished.

"Did you forget to mention that I was in the army?" Marcy's older brother, Jake, questioned me, glancing at us in the rear-view mirror.

"Actually, I didn't." I answered. "But he was adamant that I stay home."

"Well, lookie here!" Marcy exclaimed. "I finally turned you over to the Dark Side! You bad girl."

"Shut up," I smiled. "I'm only here to help you keep the party under control, because without me, you'd probably end up in jail. I'm all business."

"Ha, yeah right!" She laughed as Jake pulled up into the driveway of her house. Multi-colored lights were flashing inside the house, and music was booming, vibrating the ground under my feet as I stepped out of the car. "Just wait 'till I get you on the dance floor!" Marcy snatched my arm and dragged me up to the front door, pulling me inside.

Already, there was a crowd of about thirty people, which is a lot if you think about how small her house is. Most were crowded into the small living room, but a few were lingering in the minuscule kitchen. I saw a couple kissing passionately in the stairwell, and turned away in embarrassment, even though they didn't notice my presence. Lights were flashing in the living room, and music thrummed in my blood from huge speakers.

"Are your parents home?" I shouted to Marcy as she dragged me into the kitchen. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it for myself. "Did they approve of this?"

"Absolutely not," Marcy said, giving me a 'duh' look. "Why would I tell them 'bout this? They're over in California at the current moment, and they think that the babysitter, Kirey, is watching me."

"I should've known," I sighed. I hated being at unsupervised parties, where anything could happen, and where there was crazy junk like drugs and sex. Bleh. In fact, I don't think I've ever been to one before.

But Marcy was my best friend, and I'd promised to help her out. "Alright, what do you need me to do?" I asked, ready to work.

Marcy began relaying instructions to me. "You can party and have fun," she started, "but I want you to keep a watch out for any alcohol or drugs that someone might've snuck in. Jake will be watching who enters, so you shouldn't have too much trouble with that. If you do, alert me, Jake, or his friend, Wyatt. Wyatt will be DJ, but he'll help keep an eye on things. Also, if there's any kissing on the dance floor, tell 'em to take it upstairs."

"Great," I said sarcastically. "Just wonderful. Will you have beds provided as well?"

Marcy smirked. "Your job is to watch, not ask questions, dearie. Now, shoo!" She skedaddled out onto the dance floor, leaving me no choice but to do the same.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered under my breath as I made my way onto the floor.

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A/N

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