Boring Girls(18)

I don’t know what it was this time that made me agree to go. She was surprised, but it was all set. The party was on Friday night, and we’d meet in the park and head over. Which left me with a couple of days to regret my decision.

There was so much to worry about. My fear of her friends disliking me and being forced to either endure the awkwardness or think up some lame excuse so I could leave; of Josephine ditching me and realizing how pointless I was; and, obviously, of the normal institutions of drinking and drugs. I hadn’t had a drink before, and I certainly hadn’t smoked weed, but Josephine had, and when she’d brought it up, I’d implied that I had also. Well, not so much as implied as I definitely let her know that I had. I mean, I was cool, right? So now I would likely be faced with a situation where my extensive coolness would be put to the test. I’d have to act like I knew what I was doing. And I f*cking didn’t even want to drink or smoke weed. So how the f*ck was I going to fit in at this badass party?

Friday evening I let my parents know I was going to go to a party. It was the first time I had ever gone to a party, or gone out at all for that matter, on a Friday night. I approached them after dinner; Mom was in a good mood having just finished a painting.

“With who?”

“Josephine,” I said, and immediately they both visibly relaxed. I guess they were pretty worried that one of these days I was going to fall in with the satanic criminal crowd.

“Oh, that’s good,” Mom said. “Whose party is it?”

“I don’t know. Some friend of hers.”

“What friend?” Dad said.

“I don’t know. Some girl from Our Lady of Heaven.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “This is exciting! You’re going to a party. Is it a birthday party?”

“No, Mom, it’s just a regular party,” I said, which silenced them both again. I began to feel the familiar skin-crawling sensation of annoyance creep up my body. I wanted to go to my room.

“Will there be alcohol involved?” Dad asked slowly.

“No, Dad. They aren’t like that. It’s just to hang out.”

Dad frowned. “Rachel, don’t forget: I’m a teacher. I deal with kids your age every day, and I know what goes on at these parties.”

“Oh, Rachel, I don’t want you drinking,” my mother said.

“Or doing drugs either. Smoking pot, causing trouble.” My dad was getting into preach mode, and it was all I could do not to roll my eyes. “Doing acid. I know what goes on. It’s dangerous. You’re a smart girl, you don’t want to start making bad decisions. You have to be very careful.”

“Guys, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Be home by nine,” my mother said.

“But it’s eight o’clock! I’m not even meeting Josephine until nine!”

“Oh, right. Well . . . be home by midnight.”

“And if you need a ride home, call us. Don’t get into a car with anyone who’s been drinking,” Dad said. “We want to keep the doors of communication open. Don’t be afraid to come to us to talk about drugs, drinking, sex, whatever you need advice with.”

“I get it, all right? I’m going to go get dressed.”

xXx

I put on one of my best outfits, a dark blue plaid jumper with a black puff-sleeved blouse underneath. Black tights, and my trusty old winter boots. I put on a bit more makeup than normal, trying to channel a hint of Marie-Lise despite my boring brown hair and protective parents, and after insisting to my mother that what I was wearing was fine for a party, I left for the park.

Josephine was waiting there for me. We headed off across the neighbourhood. She babbled away about which of her friends would be there tonight, about some cute guy who was supposed to go also, and about who was going to bring the beer. I was nervous. I wished I’d brought my Discman along so I could have one ear in while she talked, listening to something that would make me feel stronger. Fuck, it was so frustrating dreading these social situations. Josephine knew I was nervous and reassured me that everyone would be really cool. “Once you’ve had a few beers, you’ll be fine.”

Yeah, great.

xXx

After a bit of a walk into a neighbourhood I’d never been to before, we walked up to a house with loud music playing and people hanging out on the driveway.

“Oh, I don’t know about this,” I said, stopping at the bottom of the walkway leading up to the house. I felt shaky, and my stomach was upset. My stupid palms sweated. “I’m nervous.”