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Don't ask me what I was doing there. I don't know the answer.

Maybe I came because my best friend told me it was going to be fun.

Maybe I came because my brother said I never get out of the house anymore and I wanted to prove him wrong.

Maybe I came because I was tired of staying in the shadows, hiding my true self behind a wall of my own making.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad I went.

Who knows who I would be now if I never went to that party.


A few months earlier...


Night has descended, shrouding everything in a veil of darkness. Headlights shine like stars as they zip by, threatening to blind me with their brightness. The car races down the asphalt, speeding away from my house.

I try not to glance over at the person driving, the person who wouldn't let this rest.

My best friend Tori switches lanes expertly, examining her reflection in the rear view mirror. She looks effortlessly gorgeous, per usual. I feel plain and awkward next to her in my favorite pair of ripped skinny jeans and a faded grey T-shirt featuring a band I like.

I rub my hands up and down my arms like I'm cold, drinking in Tori's outfit. Her long, tan legs are exposed thanks to the rather short miniskirt she has on. Her tight red tank top sets her auburn hair on fire.

Tori is supermodel-gorgeous. Her hair falls in flawless curls just like those on the girls in shampoo commercials. Sometimes I wonder why we're even friends.

"I think it's great that you agreed to do this with me," Tori says, tossing me a glance. Her smile is the kind that makes those of the opposite gender melt.

I cross my arms over my chest playfully and say, "You threatened me to come to this party."

She chuckles. "Okay, maybe a little persuasive technique was involved. But I promise you this will be a thousand times better than just sitting on your couch in your pj's, watching some Hallmark movie with a box of Oreos."

I purse my lips together. "Maybe I would have switched it up tonight and watched a Marvel movie with Cheez-Its, you never know."

Tori rolls her eyes, taking the next exit off the highway.

The party is being thrown by one of her older friends, a girl out of college named Maggie. It's about a forty minute drive from my house, but Tori insists it's worth it. "Mags throws the best parties," she's told me about a million times since bringing up the party.

I bite my lip nervously, messing with my hair, which hangs loose and curly past my shoulders. Maybe I should have done it up nice or gotten it cut before the party.

Glancing at my reflection in the window as Tori puts on her turn signal, I feel so utterly plain that it makes me want to beg my friend to turn the car around and take me home. But I don't because Tori has been looking forward to this party for forever. She was so excited when I finally agreed to go with her and I can't break her heart like that.

We take the next exit, pulling off the highway. I fiddle with the hem of my beloved T-shirt, suddenly feeling extremely anxious. I'm second guessing every decision I made this afternoon when I meticulously planned out my outfit. Something that looked nice on me, something that wasn't leggings and a sweatshirt. Yet something comfortable.

Tori is dressed up more than I am, but not by a lot. Seeing as she's the kind of person who dresses up to stand out, I'm feeling fairly secure in my outfit choice. It'll help me blend in.

Perfectly Wrong || Luke HemmingsWhere stories live. Discover now