My skin feels like I have a layer of oil clinging to it, and I don't even want to know what my hair is doing.
"Seriously, Tori?" I gripe. With a frustrated sigh, I turn toward the line blocking the front door.
"Hurry up!" Tori hollers in return.
I push my way through the bodies, not bothering to excuse myself. It wouldn't help. This crowd responds better to brute force. And I desperately need to get out of here.
And now there's suddenly a line to get into the bathroom. The clogged toilet's probably not helping.
I grit my teeth in frustration. "You've got to be kidding me." This night just keeps getting better and better. Hell, this entire day has been shit. Might as well keep it coming.
I slip into the kitchen without being seen by Jim and past the grill where Carlos is flipping hockey pucks. Some of them, I know, are supposed to be pancakes. I glance at him, and he winks at me.
"Going out tonight, beautiful?"
"Trying," I respond.
Carlos is a flirt but harmless. A guy who feels compelled to compliment Margo's bug eyes is pathetic, not threatening. I seriously doubt he's ever had a girlfriend in his life. I kinda feel sorry for him. Until I catch him staring at my ass and have to fight the urge to punch him.
I clock out at five past ten, grab my bag and try Jim's office door so I can change. It's locked. Why is it impossible to get out of here tonight? I hide myself in the corner the best I can and slip my shorts on under my dress. I unzip the green monster and let it fall to the floor, quickly pulling the halter top over my head and removing my bra beneath it. When I turn around, Carlos is staring with his brows raised and a spatula hanging limp in his hand.
"What?!" I question accusingly, trying not to think about what he might've seen.
He just stares at me dumbly.
I ignore him and pick up my crumpled uniform, shoving it into my bag. I exchange my black sneakers for the strappy wedge sandals. I don't have a mirror, so I use the camera on my phone to check my makeup. Running a finger under my eyes to capture the smears only makes it worse, so I add dark liner and smudge it for a smoky effect and finish with shiny pink gloss on my lips. I gather my hair into a knot on top of my head and slide on a sparkly crystal headband to hold back my bangs. Despite the effort, I still feel like a mess. I'm just hoping hard I don't look it.
I exit the back door without saying anything to Jim. I clocked out. I'm done.
I spritz perfume on my neck and wrists then spray it in the air to walk through it, desperate to conceal the eau de Stella's. As long as I don't act like a mess, no one will know. Right? That's what Tori always tells me.
"Act the way you want everyone to see you, no matter how you're really feeling."
I haven't quite mastered it. I tend to be way too expressive. My feelings are always evident all over my face, even when I try to hide them.
"Fake it 'til you make it." Great. Now I'm quoting posters from Mr. Garner's office.
I open the back door of Tony's car and throw my bag across the seat before sliding in. "Okay, bitch, let's go to this fucking party."
Chapter Four
"Never let a boy lay a hand on you," my grandmother says sternly, pointing a finger in my face. She looks angry. But I don't remember doing anything wrong. And a boy definitely didn't touch me. "Do you understand me? Not ever."
I nod, too scared to ask what she means.
"House party in Oaklawn, huh?" Tony pulls into the circular driveway lined with cars.
"Hey," Tori declares defensively, "we never go to house parties."
"Maybe because no one we know owns a house." I eye the people wearing plaid and jeans, standing outside the house, holding red Solo cups. It's like walking onto the set of a CW show. I had no idea that these kinds of parties really existed.
"You'd never catch me at one of these white-boy parties," Tony says with a chuckle.
"We're not staying. I told Lincoln I'd meet him here; that's all. Nina's picking us up after she gets off work," Tori explains, as if she has to keep defending why we're here.
I don't know why she's so sensitive about it. Maybe because she always wants her four older brothers to think she's badass, and this party is anything but.
"Don't call me if you get stuck," Tony tells his sister. "Lana, call me if you need a ride."