When the knock comes at the door, I think I'm hearing things. If Kenzie's shrieks weren't so recognizable, and if that wasn't just exactly what I'd expect to happen on this unending day of shit, I'd have ignored the door and gone back to collaging photos from my mom's old magazines.
But this is my life, so of course the girl in the running for the most annoying person on the planet is trying to knock down my door. Of course. I straighten my skirt, check my hair and make-up in the mirror, and snap the rubber band on my wrist. If only snapping away the magic thoughts were as easy as they say it's supposed to be.
I open the door and smile like I'm both surprised and happy to see them, because that's what normal girls do. "What are you two doing here? I thought you'd be out on the town by now, showing them how it's done!"
"We're not letting you get away that easy, sweet cheeks," Kenzie says. She pushes the door, knocking me back a few steps, and walks into my living room with her boots still on. Most. Annoying. Person. Ever.
"I thought I told Alyssa-"
"Yeah, yeah. Where are your parents, sweet cheeks?" Kenzie smirks. "Lies are so unbecoming. I'd think you'd know that, Miss Perfect."
"They went to the store, but they'll be back real soon."
"Oh, give it up, Renee," Alyssa says. Traitor. So much for friends having your back. "We know about Facebook."
It's like she punched me in the gut. Of course she knows about Facebook, but the polite thing would be not to bring it up to my face. We're in the real world, for Pete's sake. Does she not have any boundaries? "Yes, well, I'm not letting Preston's antics ruin my night. It's New Year's Eve, afterall. Tomorrow we'll all wake up and this will all be so last year." I laugh, and they don't even have the grace to laugh with me.
"It is New Year's, Miss Perfect. Time to party it up! We're not going to let you just stay in here and mope, checking your Facebook like some pathetic freak," Kenzie says. "Let's get out of here and show that limp dick bastard what he's missing."
"I'm fine, really-"
"Yes, darlin'. Fine. Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Empty. Just fine. Aren't we all? But that's why we leave the house and party it up: to distract ourselves. Let's go."
My fingers are so tense I think they'll snap off. "I am not empty."
"Alrighty, we can work on the E on the drive over."
"Why don't you two get going and have your fun. I really shouldn't leave before my parents get back," I say.
"We know your parents aren't even in town, give it up."
"I promised them I wouldn't leave," I say, scrambling.
"We're your friends, Renee. We're here to get you through this," Kenzie says.
I struggle to keep from laughing. When was Kenzie ever my friend?
"Come on," Alyssa says. "Let us help you."
"If you're such a good friend Alyssa, shouldn't you be on Facebook defending me, not liking the damn pictures?"
"There were pictures?" Kenzie asks. "What pictures? I thought he just dumped you in a post?"
My face burns, my teeth grind, and I think I'll just explode. I focus all I have on controlling my voice. "He photoshopped my face onto a starving child on their knees. And put himself next to my face."
"Whoa. You mean, like you're, you know?" Kenzie asks.
"Yeah." I wrap my arms around myself and turn away. This is exactly how my life is going. Just perfect.
"How could you do that, Alyssa?" Kenzie asks.
"What do you want me to say? I don't know what happened between them."
I pull my arms away from myself just as the sparks fly out my fingers, and I know they saw it, but they both pointedly look away.
Kenzie says, "How dare you, Alyssa! What the actual fuck? For one thing, those pics were ridiculous. For another, even if she went down on that asshole, you know as her friend it's your job to say something mean about him, not cop out behind 'IDK' like some silly twelve year old. And lastly! Don't you go insinuating that if she went down on him she deserves this bullshit drama. That boy should be kissing her feet, not turning himself into king of the assholes."
I'm surprised at her outburst and take a step away from the two of them, uncomfortable with Kenzie standing up for me, but grateful for it at the same time.
"Don't think this lets you off the hook, Renee. This just makes it all the more important that you get out of here," Kenzie says.
"No," I say, and take another step back.
"Like you said, it's the new year," Kenzie says. "Fresh start! What's your resolution?"
My hand flicks toward my pocket before I think it through, but Kenzie sees it. She leaps across the room and shoves her hand in my pocket, and I'm so appalled that my brain stops functioning well enough to even stop her.
She unfolds the paper, and her lips twitch up at the sides. She forces them back down, as if she's trying not to laugh.
"That's enough, give me that back! Get out of my house!" I reach for it, but she pulls away.
"No, really, this is great. We can make this happen."
"It was just a silly thought. Please," I beg, and then bite my lip.
"No, really. I love it," Kenzie says.
"What's it say?" Alyssa asks.
Kenzie watches me for permission, and I sigh, defeated. "It says, 'more glitter'," I say.
"I get it," Kenzie says with a smile. "I think we all need a little more glitter." Her eyes sparkle when she says it, and I shrink back, knowing I'm really not getting out of this. I wonder if I ever had a chance, or if there was something I could have said to save myself. I wonder about that a lot.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
"To see about your closet, sweet cheeks."
* * *
When it's all said and done, all three of us sparkle like disco balls. Kenzie spotted the glitter glue I had out for my collages right away, and it wasn't long before she found the glitter make-up box I keep hidden under the sink. I couldn't believe it when she found my outfit from the play last year, a skirt and jacket with sequins down the sides; I thought she was kidding.
We pile into her tiny car, twinkling flecks of light sprinkling off of us with every bit of movement. They're both giggling, and I hear a small laugh spill from my own lips. No one says it, but I know what we're all thinking: we look exactly like what we are—magic.
The headlights bounce through the night, leading us to the party like they're announcing our presence. And that's how we feel when we get there: like the party was waiting for us to begin, like the world is waiting for us to arrive and turn the lights on. I don't know where this feeling came from, it must be the laughter. Or maybe it's the glitter, or that I haven't slept in way too many nights. Whatever it is, I feel strange and catch myself bounding up the steps to the house, happy to be there.
Kenzie and Alyssa come up behind me, each taking one of my hands. We make our way through a room with ribbons dangling from the ceiling. People cluster in groups along the walls, whispering, and I don't have to listen in to know they're talking about me. I hold my head up, but keep my eyes tilted to the floor so I don't meet any stares. I almost choke on the fear in my throat. Kenzie throws an arm around my shoulders, and wiggles her hip against the side of mine.
"I love this song!"
"I don't know it."
"You'll love it before it's through," she says, and walks ahead of us, tugging me with her to the dance floor in this mammoth living room. Flashing lights reveal more ribbons, balloons, and swaying bodies leaning against each other. Kenzie stops in the center of it all and dances on the balls of her feet. I resist, taking a small step away, but Alyssa pulls my hand above my head and Kenzie moves her hand to my hip, wiggling it under her grip. With a sigh, that I hope lets them know I'm just doing this for them to be polite, I roll my head around my shoulders and sway from foot to foot.
"Oh, come on! A little fun isn't going to kill you," Kenzie says. She jumps a good foot off the ground, and howls the lyrics as she spins in circles. Alyssa laughs and does the same. With their eyes off of me, I coul
d back away. I could time my escape with the blinking of the lights and their twirling dance moves and head out the back door, find a ride, and get home with enough time to finish my collage before I head to bed. But I don't. Somehow, I find myself with my hands in the air, laughing as I pick up on the chorus, dancing in our little circle of glitter and laughter and not caring about the eyes I still feel watching us around the room.
* * *
I don't know how many songs pass before I feel like I'm floating, but I do, to the point that I bend down to check with my hand that my feet are actually on the ground. I don't know what it is that's caused this feeling, this high, but it's too much. I'm buzzing with energy like I'm not sure I've ever felt before. I think maybe I used to feel like this, when I was little, when my dresses used to twirl out around me as I spun on the grass. The picture is so far away that it could be someone else's memory, like I've borrowed their life to make sense of this feeling that's so new to me. I ball up my fists to take control of myself and push it all down. I can never, ever let myself lose control. I move off the dance floor, smiling apologetically to Kenzie and Alyssa, and motion toward a table with drinks along the wall.
My fists grind into the table, and the pain helps ground me. I look over at the plates of food, and close my eyes. I'm not taking a bite, and I don't even have to, because I already ate dinner. Those are the rules. My shoulders relax, and I pull my hands free and shake them loose. The lights flicker, exposing Kenzie and Alyssa still singing to each other in the center of the room. The lonely expanse of the dance floor stretches before me, and my feet cement in place. How funny that only a minute ago I was out there, blind to the world around me as I floated in the bubble of that high, and now I am as firmly sunk into the real world as I've ever been. My emotions were always so predictable, and now I'm all over the place.
The crowd of dancers leave a wide perimeter around Kenzie and Alyssa. It's comforting to see that it's not just me. I know it's not about the Facebook pictures, but it feels that way on a night like tonight. The normal people, the untainted, they may not know we're different, but they still know. Lots of people have theories about that, but I think their blood must tingle with the energy of our magic, raising their hairs on end. If I'm ever successful like my school says I may be someday, and manage to marry some clueless untainted person, I suspect they'll have to be a danger junkie, or someone with a secret death wish. What else would drive someone to ignore their basic survival instincts, the parts warning them not to get too close? I'm dedicated to blending in, I really am, but I just don't know if I can handle settling into a life with someone like that.
I feel his approach, but I'm startled when he actually stops in front of me.
"I didn't think you'd come tonight," Adal says.
"I didn't think I would, either," I say.
"I'm really glad I was wrong." He smiles and I hope he can't hear the thrumming of my heart, beating so much faster than this jittery music. We're not allowed to date anyone like us, anyone from our school. It would be too tempting to use magic, if we fell in love with another cursed soul.
"I heard you broke up with that asshole," he says.
I nod, unsure about the subject.
"Finally," he says. "I have something for you."
"For me? But I thought you didn't know I was coming."
"I've been working on this for a while." He bites his lip and cups his hands together, fingers shaking. "They can't see it," he whispers, and opens his fingers to offer me the flower, but it's not really a flower. It doesn't look tangible, or like it should have a form at all. The bright points of light shift and change color, from blue to purple to pink to a new shade of blue. It's brilliant and mesmerizing and so forbidden that I can't believe this is happening at all. Of all the things I'm not supposed to do, this is the uncrossable line: magic, especially magic in front of other people, whether they can see it or not. I take it, and shiver in disbelief. He smiles, freeing his chewed lip, and puts out his hand, asking me to dance. I don't take his hand, but I move the flower to my hair, amazed anew at its firm hold, and walk out to the dance floor, feeling free as a kite with a broken string. I'm untethered, and I don't even have the decorum to pretend I don't like it.
We dance, like people who've danced together for decades. Like we were born to move our feet to this horrible song. Our skin never quite touches, no matter what we do, but I can feel our energies skimming in the air between us, and it takes my breath away. When I finally let my hand take his, the breath I've been holdings breaks free, and I'm sure the room can hear the heartbeat flooding my ears. His head bends down nervously, like he wants to kiss me but doesn't have the guts—this boy who made a forbidden flower for my hair—and I surprise us both when I jump up to push my lips against his. He kisses even better than he dances once he realizes what's happening.
Multiple somethings hit my head, and Adal breaks away. I turn to see what hit me, and my gaze meets Preston's. I reach up and pull the food off of me. I find potato chips, miniature hot dogs, and jello shots. Classy.
Preston looks to the crowd, drawing my attention to the titters of anticipation. They're expecting this to get much worse. I see a couple of people pull out their cell phones: new humiliation for Facebook. It's enough to light my hands on fire, but I find it's suprisingly easy to let it go.
"Slut," he says.
Adal moves to step in front of me, but I push him back and shake my head at Preston. "What'd you think was going to happen? You were going to dump some food on me, and what? I'd crumple up and cry? I'd beg you to take me back and be your whimpering girlfriend?"
He just stares at me, unsure of what to say, and I laugh.
"Go play on the internet, asshole," I say, and laugh at my boldness. I know I've just mentioned the unmentionable picture of Facebook, but I don't care. I dance away from him, Adal following, and Preston stands there, fuming. I pass Kenzie and Alyssa on the dance floor, who put their thumbs up and shout something I don't hear. The next time I look, Preston's gone.
* * *
Kenzie taps me on the shoulder, and yells into my ear about going to a different party before midnight strikes. Adal has to head home, and I feel done here, so I agree. It's not until we're walking to the car that I realize the idea of asking to head home myself hadn't even occurred to me. What a weird fucking night.
"Well sweet cheeks, I knew you had something more in you," Kenzie says. "I couldn't be prouder."
"Thanks?" I laugh. I'd been expecting her to say something about the flower, they must not be able to see it either.
She turns the key in the ignition, and it jumps to a dead stop. That can't be good.
"Well girls," Kenzie says, "I hope you wore comfortable shoes."
"Oh no!" Alyssa whines. "We're never going to make it to that other party. I don't want to ring in the new year walking through town."
"Unless you plan on flying there, that's exactly what you're going to be doing, Alyssa," Kenzie says.
An idea sparks in my head. An obviously bad idea. I smile. "I think that's exactly what we should do," I say.
"Walking? Look, I know it burns calories, but-"
"Shut up, Alyssa," Kenzie says, and I'm grateful.
"No, not walking," I say, and open my eyes wide at Kenzie.
"You can't mean..." Kenzie says.
"We could make it invisible," I say. "I'm pretty sure I know how." I run my fingers over my flower. "Unless you're chicken."
Kenzie smirks. "I can't tell if you're joking or not." She's obviously scared, and I know I should be too, but I'm not. It's clearly finally happened: I've officially lost my mind.
"I'm going to need both of your help."
"For what?" Alyssa asks, her head sprouting up between the front seats.
Kenzie bites her lip, but nods.
"Excellent! Alright, link up," I order. "I'm guessing you both know how to make the car fly, right?"
"What?!" Alyssa shrieks.
"Yes," Kenzie says.
"We can't-" Alyssa says.
"Yes we can," Kenzie says. "Just do it."
"Fine," Alyssa says, always the pushover. It's kind of scary how easy it was to make her do this. "But there's multiple ways to make this car fly. It's what got me thrown into school in the first place, flying things. For something this big, we'll all want to stick our arms out the windows."
"For what?" I scrunch my eyes together.
"To flap our wings," she says, and Kenzie laughs, assuming she's joking. "I'm mostly serious, that's how you need to think of it, anyway. Move your arms, feel the air, and go on instinct. Don't try to push the car off the ground, push on the air immediately around us. Like we're swimming."
"Oh my god," I say, and bounce in my seat. This is definitely the best thing I've ever done. And the worst. I stick my arm out the window, ready to take flight, and the other two do the same.
"Are you sure we won't be seen?" Kenzie asks.
"Only one way to know," I say, and Kenzie laughs nervously. So much for being such a tough girl, I think, but don't say it. Instead, I push against her arm with my shoulder and smile up at her. "To the new year! Let's party it up, sweet cheeks," I say, mocking her earlier words. She rolls her eyes and relaxes.
"On three!" Alyssa says, and starts the countdown.
The ground sways below us, and none of the people on the street turn to us as we rise above their heads.
"Wow. Wow. Wow!" Kenzie says. "We're flying!" She wipes a tear from her cheek with her shoulder. "We are making a car fly!"
"What'd you think was going to happen?" Alyssa asks. We both turn back to look at her.
"I don't know about you, Alyssa," I say. "You are weirdly unpredictable."
She perks up. "Thanks."
I can't imagine how anyone could take that as a compliment, and it strikes me that I seem to know very little about my best friend. I wonder how long I've been living in the fog of my misery, and what else I haven't noticed in the world around me. So much for knowing everything, so much for having control over my life. I move my arm against the wind, which is getting colder the higher we go, and marvel at how comfortable I am with using my magic like this. The relief of tension from my core is better than anything—better than knowing I'm doing the right thing, better than feeling in control, better than not eating.
The Stroke of Midnight: A Supernatural New Year's Anthology Page 15