My house was empty when I got home, my parents were both working and I'm an only child. I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and sombered up the stairs to my room. I logged into facebook and saw I had ten notifications and three friend requests. No messages. I shut my lap top and went downstairs. I pulled open the sliding back door and called my dog, and she ran up the stairs. I let her into the house and hurried up the stairs, changing hastily into my jogging clothes before walking back downstairs and hooking Lucy's collar to her thin black leash. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and took my iPod out of my purse, attaching it to my arm band and taking Lucy outside.
I put my iPod on shuffle and Hanover Swain's Vanity blasted into my ears. I grinned and fell into a fast-paced jog, Lucy's tiny legs looking like caterpillar legs as she ran excitedly ahead of me.
Sweat coated my forehead by the second mile, and I stopped to give Lucy a break. She panted loudly and I laughed, looking back the way I came and debating doubling back to drop her at home before going farther. I decided against it, I only wanted to go a short ways farther anyway, and when I stood up quickly, without looking, I turned and slammed full-on into a guy about four inches taller than me, who wore a shocked expression when I stepped away from him. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry," I said hurriedly, embarrassed. He was unfamiliar and not particularly attractive, with a sharp nose, bushy eyebrows, and full lips. His eyes squinted in the sunlight as he shook his head, "Don't worry about it. Go easy on the language, though." He grinned half-heartedly and stepped around me, going on his way, and I raised an eyebrow at his nonsensical comment before pressing play on my iPod and settling back into a jog.
There were two messages on the machine when I got back to the house, and I set a bowl out for Lucy before walking over the machine and pressing play. "Hey baby–oh, um, and you too, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas. Anyway, I've been trying to reach you– we're having, um, a get-together tonight...Matthew's. Call me when you get this." I laughed at Caleb's nervousness– as if my parents have never heard the word "party"– and wait for the next message to play. It's Emmaline, calling to tell me the same thing. Matthew's her boyfriend, and she believes strongly that it is her personal responsibility to be the hostess of any party he throws. The message ends and I fill a glass with water from the fridge, downing it before walking back upstairs to find an outfit for tonight.
"Velvet is making a comeback," Cona agreed. "Well, I know," I concided, "but Jill wore velvet today, and I wanted to wear my velvet pumps Friday. So I don't want to overdose, or anything."
"Oh, that's right. No, you're right. What about that yellow number?"
"Oh, yuck, that only worked on me when I was blonde." Cona paused at this comment and then asked, "Can I have it, then?" I laughed, "You're not a blonde."
"I was thinking about going."
"Oh, no! Don't! I love your hair now." Cona dyes her hair more than anyone else in the group, and currently it's cropped and black, and her blue eyes look shockingly bright and beautiful in contrast. "Yea, I like it too. I don't know. I was just thinking about it." I reach under my bed, holding my phone to my ear as I feel around for my leather wedges. "Aha!" I call out as I touch one, and then the other, which was lying beside it. Cona startled, "What?" I laugh at her confused tone, "Nothing. Just found my shoes. Hey, I gotta go, make-up time. I'll call you when I get there, k?"
"Ciao."
"À bientôt."
© 2012
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