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I'm pale. I'm chunky.
Even though Aunt Rachelle swears that I've got curves like my grandmother. Apparently, she was stunning. Voluptuous, gorgeous. And I’m a spitting image of her.
I can see it sometimes, when I wear just the right outfit. When I put on the right makeup and get my hair to behave.
But it feels like it takes so much work to even start to like the way I look, so I try not to think about that shit. I’ve got too much going on and things to get done.
“Todd!” I shout and tap on the counter since there’s no way for me to get into the crowded kitchen.
“Uh, yeah, hang on.”
“No. I got class in fifteen minutes. Hurry up!”
“Damn, Michaels, laying down the law,” he chortles, squeezing through the press of his friends. “Thanks for coming. I wanted to ask you about something.” He nods for us to head out back, looking around to make sure no one is paying too much attention.
“Why are you being so weird?”
“Because I want you to get… good stuff for the party tonight. REALLY good stuff.”
“Todd, you know my rules. The answer is always no.” This comes up pretty frequently. They want hard drugs. I don’t mess with that. Plus, most college kids freak when I tell them how much I think that shit costs.
“Come on, Michaels, don't be like that.” Todd gives me his best grin, sliding his hands into his pockets. Does that bashful crap work on other girls? Not that he isn’t hot. I know him too well, though.
I give him the flat look that lets him know that I’m not buying his act. “Dude, I've done six parties for you in the last two semesters. They've all been awesome, right?”
“Well, yeah, of course they're awesome. But this is the end of senior year, endgame for half the crew. I want this to be the biggest rager of all time! I want people to remember this shit for the rest of their fucking lives.”
“I don't think anybody's going to remember shit if it goes like it usually does.” I can’t help laughing. “You planning on getting alcohol poisoning again?”
“Very funny. That was one time.”
“Yeah, well, we had to call 911 to save your ass. Not the kind of attention we want tonight, right? So, no drugs. Not my game.”
“True, true… that was pretty fucking crazy.” Todd sighs, shuffling back and forth awkwardly. “So, you're telling me you don't know a guy? You know everybody, Hellena.”
Asshole.
He’s toning it down. Flirty, but warm. Still cocky, but he’s nicer when he needs something. I hate that it works. When it’s just us talking, without his buddies, like we used to freshman year… he’s a totally different person.
He treats me like I’m cool, one of them.
Go figure. I like to be treated like a real person.
It’s the only thing that actually eats at me about coming to these gatherings. They have a club, a culture. However shallow, or empty and vapid. They have a community and lots of friends, so many that they can afford to throw them away if they piss them off.
It’s something I’ve never really had.
“Please, Hellena? For me?”
A huge sigh slips through my lips. “I–I may know a guy, but look, can’t we just double up on… I don't know, the energy drinks or something? I’ll use the glow in the dark food coloring in the drinks and get some black lights…”
“We’ve done that, though!” he protests like a spoiled little kid. “Is it a money thing? Cause you know I’m good for it.” He leans in as he says it, getting quieter as a couple of girls pass us going back inside. The place is already full of pre-gamers and I haven’t even started yet.
“Todd. I don’t think you have that kind of cash. Especially this close to the gig. I don’t even know if I’d be able to get anything in time.”
“You’d be surprised… but I see how it is… playing hardball with me.” Todd looks around nervously before crouching down and tracing a number in the dirt by the porch.
Holy. Shit.
