In the Open

"Get in loser, we're going shopping!"

***Christa B. Allen as Alyssa Stevens***

When the final bell rings, I nearly cry in relief. After Literature, my whole mood was dimmed and I dreaded every single second of the rest of the day. Now, though, I get to go home. Which I'm only now realizing, isn't much better.

Once I exit the school building, my eyes roam the parking lot, looking for Alyssa's black truck. I don't know why exactly, but my dad says I can't drive Amelia's Sedan yet. Thus, causing Alyssa to be my personal chauffeur for the time being.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping!" Alyssa shouts from her window in greeting, causing half of the occupants in the lot to turn to us with curious gazes.

Alyssa and I practically live by Mean Girls' code. Every time she picks me up, she greets me with classic Regina George, and I can't help the stupid smile that appears on my face at her enthusiasm.

Once I settle myself in the passenger seat, she veers out of the lot, not giving me time to secure my life with the seat belt.

As soon as I hear the click of the belt, I throw what I hope is a menacing glare her direction, and turn the radio up slightly.

"Are you sure you got your license because you're permitted to drive, and not because you flashed the driving instructor?" I deadpan, not a hint of humor in my tone.

"Are you calling me a whore?" She practically screams, and slams on her brakes. The honking behind us makes her snap back into action, and she starts driving with an angry look on her face.

"No," I laugh at her expression, trying to get my words out, "but you did flash the instructor. You sent me a picture of him practically bursting into flames. While you were driving, dare I mention. Another reason why you shouldn't have your license."

"What can I say? It worked, didn't it?" I laugh and think deeply about how much I love this girl.

She is outstandingly beautiful, with her chocolate brown hair, olive complexion, and slim frame. And her eyes are an outstanding caramel color. Sometimes I wonder why she spends her time hanging out with me.

I'm not going to say that I'm ugly, because I'm not. But I know for a fact that standing next to Alyssa, I'd look like a trash bag. My full, dirty blonde hair, faded blue eyes, and lightly tanned skin tone forms a very weird combination. Alyssa, though, is the epitome of perfection. Her beauty is effortless, and she never seems to do anything in order to look like a super model.

Deciding to put an end to my envious thought train, I just sit listening to Shawn Mendes through the radio for the remainder of the drive.

Twenty minutes later and we're pulling into my driveway.

Turning to my best friend, I give out a grateful, "Thank's Lyss."

"It was absolutely no struggle, dear best friend. Now I gotta scram, but I love you and I'll be here at 6:40 on the dot. If you're late, I'm just going to leave you."

She peels out of my driveway with no further words, and I reluctantly enter my house.

I'm immediately greeted by the smell of chocolate, and I follow the luxurious scent into the kitchen. Sitting on the counter is a freshly baked chocolate cake that makes my whole mouth salivate. Just as I was about to cut myself a hefty slice, a reprimanding voice harshly cuts off my actions.

"That's not for you."

Turning on my heel, I see my mom's scolding features and her heated glare trained on me. I gulp, quite audibly, and scoot away from the counter.