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Chapter 25— New Year’s
164Please respect copyright.PENANAWon7KKoAYM
The pink knit sweater and distressed black leather jacket lying on my bed taunted me and demanded a decision as to how this night would go. Would I continue to lie and weasel my way out of the public eye for my own comfort? Or would I say ‘fuck it’ and step out into the metaphorical sunlight? I dragged my freshly-painted black nails over the jacket and smirked. ‘Fuck it’ it is.
New Year’s had ushered in a snowstorm that had blanketed the Massachusetts streets and trees in layers of pure white. The nights were brushed over in falling snowflakes and crisped with an air of renewal, a promise of new beginnings. I followed that feeling as far as it would go. Over the course of those next few days, I had contemplated canceling on Angie and skipping the whole party. If Rodrick blabbed about me to Angie, who was to say he didn’t tell his lame friends or the rest of the school? But ultimately, a gut feeling pushed me to go. And Valerie. One and the same. Also, Angie was right. I was good at partying.
I tied up the laces on my black combat boots and shook out my thick red curls till they cascaded down my back. I felt like a lioness who could finally let down her mane.
Damn, I thought, Good song idea.
I unlatched my window and cracked open the frozen bits on the seal. A rush of cold air from the outside flooded my room. My mom and dad didn’t need me tonight. I climbed out onto the roof like I had practiced the night before, careful not to slip onto the ice patches on several of the shingles. Down below was a tree with a branch just long enough to get me down. I latched on like some sort of gothic monkey and let my body slither down to the ground below, only banging up my knee twice. The neighborhood around me was quiet, patiently waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop. But I was sick of waiting around.
When my car pulled up to the address Angie had sent me, I was blown back by the differences between Jeremy’s house and mine. My house, placid and well-kept, was hardly comparable to the chaotic holiday frenzy that was the Redford household. Picture a typical high-schooler party. Now double that. Maybe that would come close to the magnitude of what I was gawking at from the cul-de-sac corner. Flashing blue and yellow lights flickered from window to window. Loud pop-rock music pounded deep inside the house’s foundation. Outside, trash was already littered on the snowy lawn. Teenagers infested the place and gathered in small groups like termites scoping out a hive. Even from my car, I could smell the beer and wine coolers reeking off of every crevice of the place. It was wonderful.
I walked up the driveway to the front of the house, only half confident in my steps and very much aware of the looks I was already getting. Many of the kids I didn’t know all that much but had seen scattered in the hallways at some point in the school year. They now looked at me the same way they did when I first stepped into Crossland High—judgmental, confused, and perhaps a bit intimidated. Still, I kept telling myself over and over again, I am not that same girl. I am so much more.
And, strangely, it gave me enough strength to make it through the front door. There, the party raged on from every corner of every room. Upbeat One Republic songs filled my ears. The smell of Fritos and cherry vodka hung about. I even tasted a bit of it on the very tip of my tongue. Off in shadowy corners were couples making out under dollar-store mistletoe while the kitchen was occupied with an intense game of cinnamon beer pong. Leftover Christmas decorations reminded us just where we were at. But, as sad as it was to say, the living room Christmas tree had been freshly decorated in toilet paper and shaving cream. At the very top of the tree was a quite familiar pair of big black Buddy Holly glasses. I pulled them down and looked them over, noticing the faint crack running across the frames.
“You came,” a voice cut through behind me.
I turned from the tree to find Angie dressed in a mildly festive red sweater dress. Her blonde hair had been freshly dyed with hot pink color. Her hands were knit together in front of her. She smiled. I smiled back.
“Hey, Angie,” I said.
“Hey…” she drew out, a sudden unsureness coming over.
“Philly. It’s Philly.”
She nodded, not happy but not mad. “Philly. You look so different. Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks,” I replied, looking down at my ripped black skinny jeans and my hot red sheer blouse that dipped low enough into my cleavage. I really did look different in my real look. “I figured you should see the real me. And thanks for the invite. I thought you were closer to strangling me than being nice to me.”
She smirked and shrugged. “Thought about it. But I saw the way you punched Kurt Klein.”
Both of us laughed. My heart felt so warm. And I owed it all to her.
“He really is a dick,” I joked.
“He really is.”
“So, um, where’s Jeremy?”
Angie turned and gestured to Jeremy trapped in the kitchen without his glasses. “He’s been trying to keep everyone from accidentally burning down the place. He invited a bunch of his friends and they invited more people. And, now, we’re just hoping the cops don’t show.”
I held out the glasses to her. “He might be looking for these.”
Her face lit up as she took the glasses. “Oh my god, thanks. He’s practically blind without these things. But it is kinda funny watching him bump into stuff.”
It didn’t take long for Jeremy to wander over to us. Angie slipped the frames on his face. He blinked a couple of times, and they gazed at each other for a moment, sharing the same look from Homecoming. A pinkness bloomed across Angie’s face. She looked so happy.
“Hey, Jeremy,” I cut in.
He immediately shook out of the stare as if Angie had somehow trapped him in. “Hey, Jen—Woah…” His mouth fell open slightly, and he looked me up and down. “You look…different.”
I smiled. “Actually, you should probably start calling me Philly.”
He cocked his head, and his eyes narrowed. “Huh?”
Angie rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Did you see if everything’s set up in the back yet?”
“Oh,” he remembered, “Right. I’ll be back.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing into the herd of partying teens.
Angie beamed.
“So, you guys are a thing now, right?”
“Yeah…Look, Philly, you might’ve been wrong about a lot of stuff, but you were right, too. I would’ve never been able to even talk to Jeremy if it hadn’t been for your help. And I’m really grateful for all you did for me. You’ve been a great friend.”
My face drooped in a weird mix of shock and longing. “Really?”
“Really.” She took my hand in hers and squeezed. I nearly cried.
Instead, I pulled her hand in and wrapped her into a hug. I buried my chin in her hair and squeezed my eyes shut, letting her warmth fill me up to the brim. She deserved so much. So much.
“Thank you.”
She didn’t say anything back, but somewhere inside, I knew she didn’t need to. When we pulled away, faint tears glistened in both our eyes and we sniffled a giggle.
“By the way,” she remarked, “You totally should’ve dressed like this to school. You look freakin’ hot.”
I laughed and looked down, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I mean, did you see Jeremy’s face? I think you may have scared him a bit, too.”
“Well, that’s the goal.”
We fell quiet for a moment, taking in each other in happy devotion. A heavy sensation tugged at my heart. I knew what I came here to do. And I think she knew it, too.
“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” she said.
“I’m gonna miss you, too.”
“Are you gonna get too famous to ever come back here?”
I paused and gave her a weak smile, trying to push down the drowning feeling in my throat. The answer was crystal-clear in front of me. But facing it would have to wait for a different time. “Not for you.”
The corners of her mouth turned up, and she gurgled out a sad laugh. She drew her hands under her eyes and wiped away any stray tears. “Good.”
Our silence was filled with the shifting beat of powerful punk rock music, sounds similar to those of Anarchy Road. I drew my face towards to music coming from the backyard. The piercing guitar stole the show for a moment, going off on a string of wild notes. But my ear only picked up the solid, driving beat of the drums, carrying the song in the background. It was great. But it was far too familiar for comfort.
“What is that?” I asked, peering around Angie’s shoulder towards the crowd of people gathering in the backyard.
Angie turned back and returned with a guilty expression. “I was meaning to tell you…”
“What…?”
“Don’t they sound great?” chirped Jeremy, returning with two solo cup drinks in hand and handing them over to Angie and me.
“Jeremy—”
“Who sounds great?” I insisted.
Jeremy looked between us, a trapped and uneasy expression crossing his face. He scratched the back of his neck and chewed on his bottom lip. “Um, I guess Angie didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Angie spoke up with a shameful sigh and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Jeremy got Löded Diper to play.”
My eyes shot wide. My jaw went slack. And it felt as if every nerve in my body had lit up with fury. “What?”
“He didn’t know!” she rushed, throwing up her hands, “Right?”
“Yeah,” he said, “Angie said you guys were kind of a thing. And I saw him in the hallways. I thought maybe it’d help the guy out.”
My stunned expression was replaced with a stifled groan as I drew my hands down my face. “Angieee…”
“I’m sorry,” Angie said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Angie, what am I going to do? If he sees me, especially like this, he’ll freak out and tell everyone. I have to leave—”
“No!” She pulled back on my arm as I turned. “Don’t go. You just got here. Just…Just stay by the wall and don’t draw attention to yourself and you’ll be fine.”
“But what if—”
“Philly, this could be my last night hanging out with you. Maybe forever. You really want to let some dirtbag ruin it?”
I started to speak but fell short of words. I’d been afraid of this for so long. But tonight was supposed to be the night where I finally get to be myself and take off the ridiculous mask of Jenny Tyler. I’d had so many nightmares of being overwhelmed by crowds of people laughing at me and screaming at me. The very thought of it made my head begin to ache. But the biggest fear of them all spelled itself out in big words right behind my eyes: did I trust Rodrick enough to keep me safe? Did he even care anymore?
If it was me...I’d be past all hope.
“Okay,” I grumbled under my breath, “Okay.”
Angie studied me, reading my face for any sign of desperate protest. But I said nothing more. What would happen would happen. Hopefully, everyone would be too tipsy to care.
Angie finally nodded and took my arm, leading me further into the chaotic depths of the high school party, saying, “Let me give you the grand tour.”
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