Page 6 of Dire Straights

“Damn ACL. Well anyway, I have a dinner reservation, so I’ll head off for now. Sorry about missing your meet! I’ll make it up to you, Champ.”

“Yeah, Dad. It’s fine.”

“Oh, and Maddox?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s keep this between us, okay? The last thing I need is your mother bitching me out over one little missed event, right?”

“Sure. Whatever.” I hadn’t planned on mentioning it to her, anyway.

“Great. I knew you’d understand.” I understood perfectly. If she found out he wasn’t coming to the meet that he’d already agreed to come to, it would be a strike against him in the BetterParent competition. And they were both desperate for the win on that years-long contest. “Talk to you later, son.”

“Yep. Bye, Dad.”

I hung up the phone, and resisted the urge to throw it against the wall. The tension that had been simmering inside me suddenly felt like it was boiling. I already knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on any school work or even force myself to sleep.

There was a party going on tonight at some guy’s house, just a couple streets away. I’d heard several people mention it throughout the day. I hadn’t been directly invited, but those kinds of parties were usually more the merrier type deals. A distraction like that was exactly what I needed. And there would probably be tons of cute girls there. I’d pretty much forgone all physical human contact since graduation, which was probably unhealthy or something. I needed a hookup.

Suddenly, I remembered that I was meeting Ren Suzuki the next day at the library to work on our creative writing project. Why was I thinking about that right now, of all things? It wasn’t like it was early in the morning or anything, so I didn’t need to worry about staying out late.

When the memory of his brown eyes filled with worry and sadness when he’d implied that I might not show up to our little scheduled meeting popped into my head, I sighed and set an alarm on my phone for 30 minutes before the time we’d agreed on. There. Now he didn’t need to worry. Or maybe he was already worried? It’s not like he would know that I’d set an alarm or anything. Christ, why was I even thinking about that weirdo? I had a party to go to.

Pulling my shirt up and over my head, I opened my drawer to find something fresh to put on. Preferably something tight to show off my defined shoulders and triceps. I might not have been the brainiest with the most tolerable personality,but I knew my strengths. I wouldn’t have any trouble finding somebody cute to distract me for the night.

REN

“AH, BUT Iwasn’t invited or anything. I don’t think I even know the guy,” I told Kelani, a last ditch effort to try and convince her not to make me go.

“It’s not a birthday party with a bouncy house and a clown, Ren,” she responded dryly. “They don’t send little paper cards around and put balloons on the mailbox.”

I wanted to say that I’d rather go to a party with a clown and balloons on the mailbox, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.

“What are you so nervous about anyway?” Our other friend, Arie Becker, questioned. He tilted his head and pursed his glossy lips as he examined the work he’d done on me. Arie was one of the people I’d met through Aspen. They’d sort of adopted me into their little group. “You’ve totally got the cute nerd thing going on.”

“Oh. Really?” I asked, anxiously running my hand through my hair.

“Hey!” He snapped. “Don’t ruin my masterpiece.” He went back to work on my hair, combing it into a perfectly effortless style. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it would fall back into its normal messy state the moment I took a step out of the door anyway. Style was really, really important to him, if his colorful hair and makeup and coordinated outfits were any indication. I’d seen him wear all kinds of neat stuff, from tight, sequined suits to mini-skirts with long socks.

They had picked out my shirt (Arie had groaned at my pitiful selection and demanded to know what blind toddler had helpedme shop), tried styling my hair, and he’d even put some kind of clear waxy gel stuff in my eyebrows with a tiny little comb thing. But he’d said I had great brows and beauty was all about enhancing the positives, so I guessed that was good. When I looked in the mirror, I could hardly tell a difference anyway.

“Alright, time to go!” Kelani declared, once Arie had finished uselessly teasing my hair back into place.

“Have fun!” He said, giving us a cheeky little finger wave. His fingernails were pink and glittery.

“You aren’t coming?” I realized, with a little disappointment. He was a great social buffer, and anytime he was around everyone’s attention was usually on him.

“Nah,” he answered, glancing down at his phone. “It’s date night, and Che hates that kind of thing.”

Che Arroyo was Arie’s boyfriend. They’d been together since middle school, and had even made sure to register super early to be sure and get the same dorm room. I liked Che. He was quiet and shy, but really nice.

We walked to the party, since it was pretty close. I’d grown up in the suburbs, so I wasn’t used to being able to walk anywhere. It was nice. And my thighs and glutes were getting kind of toned from all the walking, which was cool. Kelani chatted with me while we walked, her high-heeled shoes clacking on the street. She’d worn a really pretty short dress that showed off her figure, and Arie had brushed some kind of shiny stuff on her collarbones and shoulders that made her dark skin look glittery when the light hit it.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m pretty socially awkward,” I finally said, as we turned the final corner onto the right street. “People at the party might think I’m annoying.”

She sighed a bit before giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “So what if you are? There will be other socially awkward people there, too.” I guess she thought that was a goodthing. I wasn’t so sure. “You need to relax, Ren. Arie’s right. You’re cute and nice. There’s no reason anyone would be rude to you.”

I knew she was trying to comfort me, but I wasn’t sure how to feel. I wasn’t used to compliments, particularly from girls. Gwen hadn’t had a single nice thing to say to me for maybe the entirety of our senior year. Not that I could remember, anyway.

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