Inseparable

“You’re lucky, Lucas. If I had your powers I’d have pussy lined up outside my door every day and every night.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why you don’t.”

We laughed and watched as Chris Hadek rambled on at the podium in the front of the auditorium. She looked like a straw of black licorice with a flat top.

“Is the party still on for tomorrow?” Henry asked. “I saw your dad’s girlfriend. Is she sticking around?”

"No." I hissed. "She's catching a plane after the ceremony." Suddenly all the fun of the evening slipped away. "I don't even know why she came," I grumbled. My dad isn't here. If she thinks she's anything like my mother she's wrong.

“I know why she’s here.” Henry looked at me seriously. “She was hoping to get a handful of this.” He pointed to his crotch.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Look, Lucas. How long are they going to be gone?”

“I don’t know. I think they’ll be back before I head off to Dartmouth.”

“Right. So, let’s get through tonight and then party tomorrow and leave the hounds at the door, man.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, Lucas. Just go with the flow, man.”

I smirked and looked around to see who else there was to talk to. It was funny that I found myself looking at Telula again. She looked like she was falling asleep. I wondered what she looked like asleep. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’d see her at the party tomorrow. Maybe.

Chapter 4 - Tilly

“Are you having second thoughts about going?” I pinched my phone between my shoulder and my ear. “Sandy, you know I won’t go without you.”

“No. You convinced me there would be trashing going on.” Sandy bubbled. “I would like to see that. Speaking of trashing what about that graduation speech yesterday. I didn’t think a person had enough saliva in their mouth to talk for almost forty-five minutes straight.”

“Right?” I held up a black pencil skirt in front of my hips and looked in the mirror. “The chances of anyone ever listening to her speak again for any length of time is probably slim so she had to jump on that chance while she could. Hey, what are you wearing tonight?”

“Jeans.” I could hear the smirk in Sandy’s voice. “I’m not getting dolled up for that group. Especially if I may have to make a quick getaway.”

“Why would you need to make a quick getaway?” I shook my head.

“I don’t know.” Sandy’s innocently replied. “Maybe if one of their priceless Ming vases gets broken or a Monet painting gets ripped. I’m out of there before they can blame me.”

“Who said they had Ming vases or Monet paintings? I think you are giving these people a lot more class than they deserve.” I didn’t want Sandy to know that I was nervous so I tried to pretend we were just stopping by to drink Lucas’s liquor, go through his mom’s jewelry and maybe, maybe scratch a wall or crack a tiny piece of plaster. Any small act of vandalism was to make up for all the rude bull we put up with over the past four years.

“Maybe.” Sandy agreed before telling me she’d be on her stoop in ten minutes and I better be there before she changed her mind.

I left a pile of clothes on my bed. It was embarrassing that I was putting this much time and energy into an outfit to wear. Especially when I didn't want Lucas to think for one second I was trying to look good for him. I wasn't. In fact, I wanted to look like I didn't care one bit. But with each shirt, with each skirt or any one of the two dresses I owned, I was mercilessly reminded that I didn't have any money.

That was another reason I wanted to look like I didn’t care. I knew who was going to be at this party. I knew what kind of people they were. They were the same people who made fun of my car, a used Dodge Neon, and my clothes that never had a famous label attached to them.

But they couldn't hassle me about my grades as I was a straight-A student with the exception of Phys. Ed. That was the only grade that disqualified me from being co-valedictorian with Chris Hadek. Mr. Quinn, the gym teacher, gave me a D+. I worked very hard for that D+. It takes a very creative mind to find so many ways to avoid breaking a sweat.

Regardless of the debilitating mark in Physical Education my grades got me a full scholarship to Columbia University in New York. Not too shabby for the girl everyone said would become a stripper after high school.

Oh, yeah. That was another prediction Lucas’s group of friends had said about me. But I never felt as insulted as they expected me to be. You’ve got to be pretty hot to be a successful stripper, right? It was a compliment, even if I had to stretch my mind around, underneath, on top of and inside their words to find it.

Finally, I decided on a denim miniskirt and a white t-shirt with my Converse gym shoes just in case Sandy and I had to make a quick getaway.

“You look adorable.” My mom said as I walked from my room to our tiny kitchen where she was washing dishes.

“That skirt is too short.” My dad piped up from the other end of the kitchen table where he was sorting out some bills. He was always sorting out some bills.