I'm So Vain

15

Caleb was so drunk. He had his hand on my thigh and was shouting unnecessarily at Kyle, who was standing right in front of him, keeled over in laughter. I was staring blankly ahead of me and sipping at my beer, distracted.

Everything was good, I guess. Penny wasn't angry at me, the nose incident had been all but forgotten by all of my friends, and I had lost four pounds since Monday.

But this party really sucked.

Caleb was more plastered than I'd seen him in months, and my beer was stale and too warm.

I really just wanted to go home, but I put on a fake smile, grinning at everybody and laughing at Caleb's drunken jokes which only got worse as he took in more liquor. By the end of the night, he'd be cracking yo mammas and doing the Soulja Boy. It was twelve eighteen when I finally told him it was time to go. Only he was too drunk to drive, and as he became a first-class idiot when drunk, he promised me he'd get home safe and sauntered towards the pool table with his friend Isaac. Isaac was both with a vehicle and only mildly drunk.

Well, that was just peachy for him.

I groaned and walked outside. No one in the house would want to leave yet, and I didn't feel like begging. So I tightened the strap of my purse and walked down the sidewalk toward my house, five blocks away. My heels clattered on the sidewalk and I cringed at the attention-drawing noise and tried not to think about the stalkers that could be hiding in these bushes. I quickened my pace as the park came into sight and then calmed down slightly once I was in that more familiar area. Sure, there could be murderers in the bushes there, too, but at least they were less dense. 

I walked along the edge of the pond, but it was dark, and I couldn't make out my reflection on the glassy water. A park light, however, shone on the other side, so I walked in that direction and then paused to look at myself mirrored on the surface. It really was dark, and therefore difficult to see the details of my facial design. My skin looked practically flawless in the twilight. 

Yet it stuck out like a soar thumb and threw off my petite features. It was a trunk on my face, an awful, giant thing. It was the unibrow and the mustache on Frida Kahlo. 

And then I decided. I was getting a nose job.