Chapter 1
I had never been one for grand introductions. I would always just sit there, watch, and listen. You never get noticed that way, but I was perfectly fine with that. I hated when people would stare, or even when they took a second glance. So in a predicament like mine it’s great to have Brianna.
My Brianna was the exact opposite. If she wasn’t the center of attention she would have a mental breakdown. But it never came to that because people always paid attention to her, especially boys.
Saying she was pretty was an understatement. Her even sienna skin always glistened in the sun. She had thick 3c hair that naturally fell to the shoulders of her small triangle 5’1” body. She had small boobs but that didn’t matter because her ass made up for it. She had a beauty mark right in the center of her forehead that people used to make fun of in middle school but now it’s her most iconic feature.
I admired her as she did so to herself in the mirror of the bathroom in her house. She had put on mascara just to put on fake lashes.
“Why do you need to do both,” I asked as I stood next to her, changing my focus from Brianna to myself. I was just a little bit taller than her by an inch or two. I had more of an hourglass shape, but it was pointless because I had no ass and nothing close to a flat stomach. My boobs were big, but definitely not perky. My espresso tone skin was somewhat even but far from clear. I always wonder how Brianna got hers so perfect but nothing she does works on me, in fact it just makes things worse. My hair was the only thing I liked. It wasn’t long, only reaching my shoulders when it was straight. However, in its natural state it was a thick fluffy 4c mess that I would alternate between an afro and an afro-puff.
She didn’t answer, just simply shrugged and continued on with her routine. I rolled my eyes and walked down the hall to her room and plopped myself on the bed. Her favorite color was orange and it was apparent entering her room.
She had a queen bed, centered between the door and the closet, decorated with light orange sheets and a comforter with an orange based floral pattern that matched the pillow cases. Her walls were painted a very light orange and were full of pictures of us and her family, which were accompanied by paintings her mom made. On the right side of her bed, just about four feet away was a burnt orange wooden desk, cluttered with all her school things like pens and notebooks and even a laptop.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my app pages, searching for a game to -occupy my time, but nothing seemed appealing. Just then, Brianna walked in and sat down next to me, slapping my butt.
“Guess who’s throwing a party,” She questioned excitedly as if I already knew the answer.
“Who,” I said halfheartedly, I didn’t really care.
“Riley Jackson, remember him, I dated him in seventh grade.” She had read the confusion in my expression and walked over to her desk, searching through a pile in one of the drawers before pulling out a worn out pink scrapbook simply titled ‘scrapbook’ written with lazy penmanship and a glitter pen. She skimmed through the pages before stopping on a page of a small mid-puberty version of herself and an equally as small lanky white-boy with blonde bushy curls and light blue eyes, neither one was smiling. But despite the unhappiness of the picture the broader of the page was beautifully decorated with pink swirls and heart stickers.
I gave her an audible ‘oh’ before returning to searching for a game.
“Lillian said he was throwing a party for Ethan, ya know since it’s his birthday next Friday.” She paused to gauge my reaction but I didn’t react. “ But Riley’s throwing the party tomorrow night because Ethan is going out of town with his parents all weekend long.”
I finally spoke up, “How do you know so much?”
“ I just told you, I’m in this group chat with Lillian and Molly,” she stated nonchalantly, but I didn’t ask why I wasn’t added. I know the why and the who.
“Are you going,” I asked plainly, looking up as she texted on her phone.
“Hell yeah I’m going. Come on E, imagine all the fine dudes that will be there. This year imma bag me a hispanic, and where better place to start then a hispanic dude’s party.” She stopped and looked at me, “And imma find you a dude, too.” She said practically running to her closet.
“I don’t want a dude,” I refused.
“Then Imma find you a bitch,” She happily said back. “Oooh girl I got this skirt and crop top I can’t fit that I’ve been dying to see on all that body,” She said, making curved lines with her hand while holding eye contact so I knew she was talking about me.
“I don’t wanna wear a crop top and I don’t wanna date anyone, I’m not even allowed to date.”
“Who cares what you’re not allowed to do,” she said aggressively shrugging her shoulders, the annoyance with my words obvious “ You’re going to be in college literally next year! You can’t let your mom tell you what to do! You are seven-fucking-teen! If you don’t start making decisions for yourself now you might never will,” She lectured. She was so heated she stopped going through her closet and huffed and puffed to her orange velvet office chair.
I somewhat agreed. My entire high school career I stayed back from the parties because I was scared and here we were almost halfway through my last school year and I never kissed a soul.
Maybe I did need to grow up.
“I’ll go, but no one is setting me up with anyone, girls or boys.” I said as I walked over and sat on her lap.
“No promises,” She said, hugging me with a goofy ass smile on her face.
