The Dark: Chapter Three

Its your senior year in high school. A few months before graduation. The night of Spencer's party. You're not popular but you've still been invited. Well, sort of. You find a flyer plastered to your locker. Bright pink, it is hard to miss. After reading it you start to crumple it up. So what if it's going to be "The wickedest shit this side of hell", its not like you're going to feel welcome there. They'll probably just shut the door in your face anyway.
Something, however, stops you from throwing it away. You don't know what, maybe it was fate and so instead of tossing it in the trash can like you know you should have, you uncrumple it, smooth it out on the thigh of jeans, fold it nicely and stuff it in your pocket.
When you get home you go straight to your room. Do your homework. Try to forget about the flyer that is burning a hole in your pocket. Its a losing battle, however, and so after reading the same line about fifty times you pull out the flyer. Smooth it out on your desk.
"The wickedest shit this side of hell!!!" it proclaims. Something about that riles you. Makes you want to turn up just so that you can dare them to shut the door in your face.
And what if they do? you ask yourself. What then?
You try not to think about. Try to force the stupid notion of going for some stupid party out of your stupid head.
Crumpling the flyer you toss it in the general direction of the wastepaper basket without really aiming. It bricks. you're not really surprised.
Swiveling in your seat you plan to crack the books in earnest when the sound of your name barrels up the stairs and slams into the bedroom door. Getting up you walk over to the door and jerk it open.
"Whaaaat?"
"Phooone!"
Shit, it's probably Kelly, you think. You already have some idea of what she is going to say and have no desire to hear it.
"Tell who ever it is I'm not home!"
"Its Kelly. She says its pretty urgent!" is the prompt reply.
You roll your eyes. "Urgent" to kelly is a night out without a new outfit. she probably wants to come over and get that white Yankee fitted she has bugging you about. But whatever.
You tell your mom that you'll take it.
Swiping the handset from where it sits on the small table in the corridor you put it to your ear.
"Have you heard about Spencer's party?" Kelly asks without preamble.
"And hello to you to." you say.
"Shut up and answer the damn question."
You walk back into your room and shut the door behind you. Briefly catch a glimpse of the bright pink ball sitting next to the wastepaper basket.
You lie.
"No." you say and sit down on the edge of your bed.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No."
"God, you're such a spaz." Kelly says,
"Anyway, we sooo like have to go."
"We're not invited." you point out, even if it isn't necessarily true.
"I am." Kelly counters, who seems to have an answer for just about everything,
"And I'm taking you with me."
You sigh. Tell Kelly that you're doing homework. That you have an assignment thats already two days late, that-
"Shut up." Kelly says cutting your feeble explanation short.
"I'm coming over, you're dressing up and we're going for that fucking party. Kapeesh?"
You know there's no wriggling your way out of this one and so you reluctantly agree. Resign yourself to the inevitable.
Fucking Kelly, man, you think. The queen bitch of the strong arm.
As you hang up the phone, you try to shake the queer feeling that you have. Like something is about to go seriously and horribley wrong. Its just nerves, you tell yourself. It's just your mind trying to play tricks on you.
You toss the phone onto your bed. Walk over to your closet.
Trying to ignore the tremor in you hands, you look for something to wear