Unwritten Pages

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Invitation

     “Oh look,” Desiree says, holding a piece of paper in her hands. “I can't believe it.” Though from the sound of her voice, she sounds like she can believe it.

     “What?” I ask, peering forward. Desiree passed the paper to me and picks another strawberry from the bowl she had gotten.

     I read the paper closely. It's just a white piece of paper with a few lines scrawled on it. It's nothing fancy, really.

Hey Andrew. And Desiree/Drew/tranny,

Party on Friday night.

You know, like that song. What is it called again? But anyways, feel free to come. Oh, and bring a friend or...something like that. Whatever.

Come anytime after six!

Yeah, alright. Whatever.

-Chris

     “What the hell is this?” I ask Desiree, looking back and forth from her to the paper. Desiree looks at me, seeming amused. “I'm serious,” I say.

     “Chris's invitation card or whatever. I actually couldn't believe he would write an invitation. Sounds like he really wants us to come...kind of. Should we take Ari?” Desiree asks, actually sounding like she's seriously considering on taking Arianna to whatever party Chris is going to host.

     “I'm not going,” I say as I put the paper back down on the table in disgust. “He's probably trying to rape you in there.”

     Desiree shrugs. “Just...to...you know... Relax after the whole...Winter incident.”

     Right. Winterlyn Evaline Lawly—the suicide victim. How could I forget? Maybe because with the journal now...I feel as if I have a part of her soul. A tangible part of her soul that isn't floating off wherever people go in the afterlife.

     If there is an afterlife, a voice whispers in my head. Peter's cynical views are affecting me.

     “Alright,” I finally say. “We'll go. With Ari, if she wants to come.”

     “Great!” Desiree says before taking another strawberry. “You'll stay with me to make sure he doesn't rape me, right?” Desiree had meant it as a joke, but I couldn't really take it that way. Chris doesn't play around. He seems like all he wants to do is play around, but it's not true. I know his true colours. If he sets his sight on what he wants—he'll stop at nothing to get it. I hope that Desiree isn't what Chris wants next.

     “I'll snap his head off,” I say, staring at a pencil on the table. I have a strange urge to break it in half. Desiree doesn't notice this.

     “Aw! That's sweet!” she says, seeming to think that I had been joking this whole entire time. “But honestly, I'd rather that you not get charged for killing someone.” Desiree looks at me, smiling. She notices my expression and the smile drops off her face. “Andrew?” she asks. “What's wrong...?”

     “Nothing,” I say. “I'm just... It's nothing.”

     “Do you...” Desiree trails off, thinking of something to say, “do you want to go see Ari? Or...go watch a movie? Or play sports with you friends?” she asks. “I'm fine with it, really. If you don't want to sit around and do nothing, we can go play sports if you want. Peter, Con, and Tomas are here, right?”

     “It's alright,” I say. “I'm just a little tired.” That's a lie and we both know it. It's still late morning and I can't be tired already. Desiree doesn’t say anything about it though. She just gives me a worried look. “We should just watch a film together. I have Titanic here,” I say. Desiree's face lights up again.