3. Sleeping Memory

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Parties. A blessing from God himself? Maybe to some people, they are. But usually, it's a time filled with freedom, wildness, risks, new beginnings, and of course unlimited possibilities. You can ask millions of teenagers why they love parties so much, and you'll most likely hear this one simple answer; The idea of possibility. Anything could happen at a party. That, my friends, is what makes the thrill of a party exciting. Well, exciting for most. Because unlike everyone else, the only thing parties give me is massive migraines.

To me, the unexpected is frightening and exhausting. It's something I usually don't mess with. Unless of course, the Queen of Ice decides to invite your lover and yourself to a ball for the ultimate revenge. Then it's a whole new battlefield. Then you have to play along. Then you have to show her that two can play this game because you can't just let her win!

A rampage of loud knocks echoes in my hollow room and a muffled voice calls out. "In three seconds I'm coming in, if you're not dressed, tell me now." Paxson's deep, chivalrous voice is muffled by the doorframe.

I examine myself in the mirror, I have on a white and blue striped t-shirt and shorts over my one-pieces maroon bathing suit. I guess this is dressed enough.

"One, two-"

Just as the door swings open I scream. "I'm naked!"

Paxson flinches and covers his eyes, his whole body jolting in surprise, and I start to cackle.

"Really?" he relaxes at the sight of me clothed. I shrug.

"Ugh, whatever. Are you ready to go?" Paxson adjusts his watch like he can't believe the time.

"I guess so. Oh, wait!" I hop off my stool and skip to the other side of my bed, pleased. I carefully grab the perfume that sits on my side stand and hold it up to present it to him.

Paxson rolls his eyes impatiently and taps his foot. I spray the sweet scent in the air twice before slowly drifting myself into the arms of a lovely aroma that I'm addicted to.

"Can we go now? It's an hour's drive and I don't feel like being fashionably late. We have to be there by noon." Paxson widens the door for me to pass. As I move beside him, I stop, flip my hair, and walk out the door.

Paxson's cherry red 1200 Ram is a giant. Once we jump inside, the engine roars viciously and we zoom off. I stare out the window as the world flies behind us with silence as our company. Paxson is the first one to initiate a conversation.

"Okay, so we need to place some ground rules."

I turn my body to face him. "Like?"

"Well for one, be nice. Just because they are Priscilla's friends doesn't mean they act like her. They are kind and cool people. Well, that's what she says, anyway."

Rich and nice? What's the catch?

"They may be a little snotty sometimes, but in those circumstances, you just have to tune them out and smile. Pretend you're listening, when you're not." Paxson finishes with a sort of edge, and I laugh internally. There it is.

"Oh wow, they sound like a dream!" I clasp my hands together and bat my lashes.

"And that's the next thing. This nasty little attitude of yours will get you into a lot of trouble, Missy. Try to conceal it. That's life advance, not just a short-term rule, you hear?"

I salute him. "Yes sir, Mr. Paxson, sir!" Though he tries to hide it, Paxson cracks a smile that sends red to his cheeks.

"Good. The last thing is." He pauses, biting his lip. He lingers there for a moment, then finally decides to speak.

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