Chapter 7, Part 1 - Dawn

First glimpse of the social scene at Madison's party.

            Two days until Christmas, I was at work. I ticked me off a little that in order to get the holiday bonus; you had to actually work days on the holiday. You might think that the bonus is a gift, but really it’s just compensating slightly for the fact that they want to be doing as much business as possible. Which was what I was helping them do by standing in the entrance to the fitting rooms, instructing costumers on what to do before they could try on the clothes. Seriously, it was like you had to apply to use the fitting rooms. I could understand why it was annoying. Fighting it wouldn’t help, though. I was adamant.

“No, ma’am, they seriously expect you to hang your clothes here so I can count them,” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “I’m sorry it’s a hassle, but those are the rules.”

The lady standing in front of me was short and squat, with a big brown afro of loose curls and black fabric draped over her body. She had very large lips and dark eyes, and a permanent scowl. I could easily imagine her smoking on the street corner, one hand on her hip, waiting impatiently for her tall and burly husband to pick her up.

“Well, I’m not doing that,” she spat, her voice heavily lined by a Russian accent. “It wastes too much time, I’m going.” She brushed past me, and I shoved a card for six items towards her just before she disappeared. I could at least do part of my job.

“Some people are so rude,” said Erin, a girl who normally worked on the registers. “I could never get anyone to follow directions when I was back here.”

“Neither can I,” I replied. What was Erin doing in the fitting rooms? I had met her in the break room, seen her working on the floor, but never worked with her before.

“It’s like, I’m being polite! I always smiled and said please, but they always acted like I was cutting years off their life or something,” she continued. That’s nice, Erin. Do you have a point?

“Yeah, same.” I said.

“Whatever, you know? Screw them, at least we get money out of them.” She laughed. “Hey, you’re done. Five o’clock, right? They told me to cover back here so you could go home.”

“Really?” I checked the clock on the wall; it was true, ten past five. They were never on time letting me out, but Heaven forbid I ever be late. Well, as Erin said, whatever. At least I was getting money out of them. I thanked her and sped across the store to clock out. School had ended on a half day that morning, so I was finally on break!

I couldn’t get home fast enough. The normal five o’clock traffic was increased by two factors; it was Friday, and it was two days to Christmas. People were coming in to visit family, leaving to go stay with relatives. Christmas had always felt stationary to me because my family generally was the host; our house was always filled to the brim around the holidays. Looking at the traffic jam, though, made it seem like the whole world was moving.

 

I tried to find something decent to wear to Madison's party. I wasn’t worried about temperature because I knew the party would be indoors, but I didn’t want to look bad; to them, or to myself. Asia had called me a few days after I got the invitation, asking me to please be a little more social while I was there. She promised that I wouldn’t have to talk to any of the people from the party ever again, as long as I made an effort to be friendly and talkative. It was with a great strain on my soul that I agreed to try, mainly because I was aware that my attitude would determine how good of a time I had. I also imagined that whatever I wore would be judged, and it would be easier to be social if people didn’t immediately write me off as fashion impaired, even though I was and I figured they would anyway.

The outfit ended up being a pair of dark jeans, a pair I hadn’t worn since Easter when I decided they were too tight, and a loose flowery shirt that my sister had once said made me look like I should be “barefoot and pregnant”. I wasn’t worrying about what the shirt said; I was just trying to look acceptable. I grabbed one of Cal’s Maple Creek sweatshirts for just in case I got too cold, and jumped in the car around nine to pick up Stacy.

It wasn’t until I was on the road that I realized how much I really didn’t want to go to the stupid party. But by then I was pulling up to Stacy’s house, and I knew she wouldn’t let me get out of it. I had mentioned a few days earlier that I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. She had sworn that I had told Madison weeks ago that I was free the night of her Christmas party and I had muttered lamentably that it was true. So I found myself locked to that Saturday night, even as I was sitting in the driver’s seat waiting for Stacy to lock her front door. She almost succeeded in planting a gift-wrapping bow to my hair while I stared glumly out the car window, but I ripped it out in what I considered to be a refreshing “Bah-Humbug” style. I mean jeez, I love Christmas, but using it as an excuse to throw parties seems sacrilegious to me.

“Are you ready to party!?” Stacy shrieked, buckling herself in and throwing her head back. She loved social events.

“Sure,” I shrugged, and rolled back onto the road. In reality I was dreading having to make an appearance at Madison’s party, among people I didn’t really know or like, people who didn’t know or like me.

Besides, it wasn’t by Madison’s choice that I was there. She and Asia had planned the guest list together, and Madison made a show of tolerating me to appease our mutual friend. But I could tell by the way she rolled her eyes at my presence on her doorstep that she regretted my existence. Likewise, Maddie darling, likewise.

“It’s so lucky that your parents are letting you have this while they’re out!” Stacy gushed as she dragged me inside. “My parents hate it when I have people over.”

Madison tossed her scarlet curls, the same way that Asia and Stacy did when they were being superficial. You could tell they were from the same neighborhood, in a manner of speaking. “Yeah, they calmed down once I turned fifteen. It’s like, I’m mature enough to host a group of friends, no problem.”

I couldn’t see how a fifteen-year-old Madison McGrey was anything to calm down over, seeing how her seventeen-year-old counterpart was about as calming as a night terror. It was probably more to do with the anxiety pills that were required for spending ten minutes in her presence that had subdued her parents.

Madison’s parties all took place in the comfortable, ultra-chic basement below the rest of the mini-mansion. We stopped at the top of the stairs, where the noise overflowed to the first floor. I curled my lip at the prospect of having to descend into my version of social hell.

“Who all is here?” I asked.

“Oh, just some friends,” Madison said airily. “Maggie’s not coming; she called out like an hour ago, something about food poisoning…”

Damn that Maggie. She was the only person besides me who hated these glamorized get-togethers, the one who would hang out with me in the corner and make fun of everyone. I was pretty sure she didn’t have food poisoning, and not just because her stomach was made of iron.

“Asia and Andrew just got here; they were heading over to the bar when I came up. Lindsay’s in the TV room, she and Tom brought his new Xbox…”

We finally reached the bottom of the stairs, and found ourselves in the wide McGrey basement. It was well furnished, I had to admit. There were couches and armchairs everywhere, usually set up near one of the numerous televisions, although the nicest one (at 72 inches) was in a room full of bean bag chairs. There were doorways everywhere, because basements these days can’t just be one big hollow space. They have to be mazes, complete with bedrooms and bathrooms and storage spaces, rooms for Mr. McGrey when the football game is on, rooms for people to crash in when Madison gets them all drunk.

Madison drifted away immediately, drawn to people more interesting than me and those suicide enough to be seen with me. Stacy started towards the bar, and I followed her simply to avoid the purgatory that is being alone at a party.

The bar, I’d just like to point out, was a serious bar. The McGreys were Irish and they enjoyed good beer, although I know a lot of people disagreed that Guinness was included among the “good beers”. It was kept in a keg on tap behind the bar, and all my underage peers were having a hay day over it. A serious hay day. I caught sight of Danella slumped over the polished wood, practically sticking her face into a red plastic cup, and the party had only started less than an hour ago.

“Hey Dawn!” A cold hand grabbed mine and yanked me towards the keg, where Andrew was carefully filling a cup. Asia was wearing her sparkliest, slinkiest red sweater, and one of Stacy’s bows in her hair. She looked like a reject elf, but Asia loved dressing for Christmas as much as I loved the actual holiday, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“You’re freezing,” I said instead, pulling away and quickly burrowing into Cal’s giant sweatshirt.

“I know, this sweater is so thin it’s practically see-through,” Asia waved her arms to emphasize. “Can you see through it?”

On a good day, I’d be honest with Asia and check to make sure her top was acceptable. But in the middle of Madison’s cursed party, I wasn’t in the best of moods and didn’t feel like staring at Asia’s chest to see if a bra was outlined. I glanced fast at her right elbow and shook my head.

“No, you’re fine.” Even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t care. Asia wasn’t that shy.

“I told you to put on layers!” Andrew scolded smilingly.

“Geez, Asia, it’s snowing outside!” Stacy laughed. “How are you not hypothermic?”

“Hey, once I have a few drinks I’ll warm up,” Asia shrugged. “You’re drinking, Stace, right?”

“No, I’m driving.”

She wasn’t really, but it was her excuse to not drink. After what happened at Halloween, she had sworn off alcohol for the rest of year, even though there had only been two months of it left. Thank God that Stacy at least had that much sense. I couldn’t say the same for half the kids there, especially not my best friend, who shrieked “Not even one?!”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Don’t make her feel bad for making the smart decision.”

Stacy jumped up, nearly knocking me over as she latched on to my arm. “Did you just call me smart?” I instantly regretted it. “Hot damn, now I’m definitely not drinking! Dawn called me smart and that never happens!”

Author's Note

This needs a lot of work. I already cut a huge chunk out of the beginning because it has nothing to do with the story, but the rest I consider important.