-Three Years Ago-

“Move out of my fucking way, freshman,” I barked to a pitiable, elfin lower classman as I shoved her in a locker. “God, what is with these kids? I’m a senior with a birthday today and they just prance along like they’re on the fucking yellow brick road. Fuckers,” I huffed, discontinuing my rampage to stop in front of my best friend’s locker. “Follow the yellow brick road,” I laughed in a munchkin voice.

I flattened my Black Flag T-shirt and checked my belt that held up my black Dickies pants. I quickly unloosened my dirty blonde hair from being tied back. I ruffled up my hair to create a messy look.

Frank paraded up the hallway, his head hanging low.

I whistled and shouted, “Hey, Frank! Get your ass over here, mister!”

He raised his head to smile at me and walk more rapidly screaming ‘happy birthday’ at the top of his lungs.

Frank hugged me as soon as he reached me. “Hello, birthday girl,” Frank greeted me, slightly moving me out of the way to open his locker door. “How was your last period of the day?”

“Eh, so-so I suppose. Le Français a devenu redoutable,” I grumbled. “No homework so that’s good news. How about you? How was doing your density lab with the childish elf that still picks his nose and eats it?”

“He actually doesn’t even do that anymore.” Frank must saw my shocked expression on my face that he said, “I know I’m stunned too that he does not act like a four year old at all.”

“Maybe you just didn’t see him do it. He’s a Machiavellian fellow.” I winked. “When you blinked, he just crammed his finger up in there.” I started to elevate my finger towards Frank’s nose. He slapped my finger away with a grin.

Frank and I began to walk out the school doors, dodging the wheezing freshmen. We safely made it to my black Honda that shimmered in the sun. I jumped in the driver’s seat while Frank crawled into the passenger’s seat.

“So, birthday girl…” Frank sighed with glee.

“When do I get my present, non birthday boy?” I questioned, pulling out of the school’s parking lot. “Do you know how energized I am? I’m eight-fucking-teen! I ca-can vote! What else can I do? Huh, I can boss asinine children around when they piss me off.”

“What can’t you do, Violet?” Frank asked in a derisive tone.

I glared at Frank. His semi pale skin illuminated in the sun beating down from the sky. Black strands of hair fell in his face.

“I can’t watch my neighbor through a telescope without being classified as a creeper. That’s a disadvantage. There’s always a negative aspect.”

“I hear you loud and clear.”

I tightened my hands around the steering wheel as I approached a red stop light. I couldn’t help but to watch him. I constantly observe him. We had attraction, but we realized we can be friends without sexual entanglement. In fact, we are secured in our beliefs that we are nothing more than friends. Now we just seem completely oblivious that we have fallen head over heels for each other. I can recall more than six times that we had this conversation.

“So, are we still going to that party tonight?” Frank sounded disenchanted.

“Yes, unless you don’t want to.” I was still starring at him.

“Violet, it’s a green light. Go,” he commanded.

I nodded, pushing my foot on the gas.

“Yeah, so, Violet,” Frank continued. “If you really want to go to that party, we can go. Just afterwards, I need to take you somewhere. It’s across town from the party spot.”

“Where are you taking me?” I inquired, furrowing my eyebrows.

“If I just let all my secrets go out the window, you’ll have nothing left to appreciate me for.”

I gulped and empty of gestures I told Frank, “For all intents and purposes, we do not have to go to the party. We can stay home, eat cookie dough, and watch House of a 1,000 Corpses. It is utterly fine with me.”

“No, Violet,” Frank disagreed. “It’s your birthday and if you want to go, we are going whether you like or not. Get used to it.” He sighed. “What are we going to do?”

“What are we going to do for what?”

“At the party,” he replied. “What do you people do at parties?” Frank sat up straight, gazing at me.

I thought. What do you people habitually do at parties? “Well, they dance… possibly. And, they drink. Guys taking advantage of girls might be apart of the party panorama.”

“We are such vast party goers. It is all we do,” Frank griped.

“We just crash parties every night. It’s verb, it’s what we do.” I gave him a somber look. “Technically, we are just Steve and Doug Butabi from A Night at the Roxbury. But seriously,” I chortled. “We hear about a party going on and, like, we don’t care. Out of the whole school, Frank, we are least expected to be seen at a party. I’m positive a nerd that buries his head in his science book is more prone to be at a party, grinding on some inebriated slut.”

“We have parties ourselves.”

“Yeah, Franklin, two people is not a party. It’s not even merrymaking with friends. It’s a get together with a friend that I see everyday of my life. Big deal,” I huffed.

“Yeah, well, we make it a party!” Frank made a whoop noise while I made techno sounds.

Frank stopped his laughing before saying, “We will have a good time tonight. Hey, maybe parties will become a standard craze for us.”

“When pigs fly out of my ass, we’ll talk.” I sped through a yellow light. “Hold on, bucko.”

Notes

What happened to all my lovely commenters? I miss ya guys!

-christy-