Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“But this is supposed to be the party of all parties. Every graduating senior has been invited unlike some of the other exclusive events where only the popular people went. We hear about Champion Manor in the local news. Aren’t you dying to see what it looks like on the inside?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not particularly.”
How big did these people’s egos have to be that it wasn’t enough that the town we lived in was named Champion after one of their descendants, but they needed to stamp their names on their estate as well.
Lea pouted, her signature move when she didn’t get her way. Sometimes I found it charming but at the moment, it annoyed me. “But I heard Mrs. Champion has flown in some top chefs from all over the country to cater this event. And they’ve hired The Heartbeats to play. The frickin’ Heartbeats. I’ve loved that band since I was a kid. I didn’t want to come alone. Don’t be mad at me.”
“You have more friends than I do, you could have attended this function with any number of them.”
“But you’re my best friend. I wouldn’t want to share this night with anyone but you.”
The truth is, Lea is my only friend. Sure I have a handful of acquaintances that I casually exchange small talk with in the hallways at school, but none of them are people I’m particularly close to. Lea is my ride and die and the only one who stands up for me whenever I fall prey to The Clique.
It’s one of the only reasons I haven’t cussed her out for bringing me here.
I release a heavy sigh. I don’t even know why I was arguing with her. She knew I’d give in. Besides, I survived four years of high school with these numb nuts, what’s one more hour?
In a house this big I’m sure I can find some lonely corner to hang out in for an hour while Lea socializes and lives out her teenage fantasy through the music of her favorite band. “Fine, but you owe me big time. And when I text you it’s time to go, I don’t want to hear any arguments.”
Lea jumps up and down before engulfing me into her arms. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with.” I reluctantly follow her as she pulls me up the driveway.
As we get closer to the entrance, I hear the vibrating thump of the music, a fusion of rock and hip-hop. I’m not sure why my hands started shaking but once they started, they wouldn’t stop.
The partygoers, two guys and three girls, hanging on the porch as we approached glanced our way and before continuing their conversation. One of the boys nodded his head in Lea’s direction but my friend is laser focused on the entrance.
The door is slightly ajar which I guess meant that we could go inside. We’d already showed our student IDs to get into the party to prove that we were graduating seniors so I guess no doorman was needed. I almost expected one with a fancy place like this.
Once inside, I couldn’t hold back the gasp that tumbled from my lips. This was not a house. This was a museum. From the beige marble floor, the double spiral staircases and pristine white walls lined with high end art, I was almost afraid to breath in this place from fear of messing something up.
There were kids in the foyer, engrossed in conversation, laughing and drinking without a care in the world as if tomorrow didn’t matter. And why should they worry. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration and joy for accomplishing the feat of surviving four torturous years of High School. There was no need to think about the future, college, and eventually getting jobs. Most of us were legal adults but for one more night we were still kids.
I wish I could feel the apparent happiness everyone surrounding seems to have but I can’t shake the unease of being in enemy territory.
“This place looks like it’s straight out of a movie. The pictures in the newspaper didn’t do this place juice.” Lea glanced around the house with open-mouth awe. “O. M. G. Is that a giant ice sculpture of our school’s mascot?”
I look over to my left into what I assume is the living dining room which was the size of a banquet hall and sure enough there was a large ice Spartan. It was proudly displayed in the center with ice sword in hand that replicated the symbol of Roosevelt High.
Lea pulled me along until we were in the room and as I got closer, I could see that it was surrounded by a mountain of jumbo shrimp, lobster tail, cracked crab legs and various sauces. Along one wall was a carving station, manned by staff in crisp white chef’s uniforms. There had to be at least ten different kinds of meat. There was a different table for salads, desserts, pasta. There was even chefs making personal pizzas in a coal oven.