Tonight's the party. I'm a little nervous, but really excited. Is that stupid? I don't now Oliver very well at all, in fact I've only been around him for, like, five minutes, but he seemed like a fairly likable person. I guess I just feel a little rebellious, and I've never been to a party before.

Right now, I'm sitting defeated on my bed, having just gone through my entire closet. I have absolutely nothing to wear. I'm sure every girl says that, but my closet is filled with seriously school appropriate clothes. The only thing that I found that's even remotely considered okay to wear to a party are these black shear tights. I don't know what to do with them. Ugh!

I look over at the digital clock on my bedside table. 7:30. Oliver would be here at eight. I'm so screwed.

An idea pops into my head. My mom's out doing something, and she has a closet full of clothes that are way to young for her. For me, however, they would be perfect. Almost slipping on the pile of discarded clothes in the middle of my bedroom floor, I scramble out my door and across the hall to her room. I flip the light switch and throw myself into her closet, frantically searching through the racks of unorganized clothing. She has everything in here. Jeans, rompers, dresses, scarves- aha! I whip out a black dress. It would have to do since I still have to do something about my hair. I run back to my room.

On my way out, I stub my toe on a pair of shoes. A string of curse words tumbles out of my mouth as I lean down the pick up the cursed things. On closer inspection, I rammed my foot into some totally hot thigh-high heeled boots, which would go perfectly with my dress and tights. I know, it's wrong to wear tights like these to a party like I'm assuming this is going to be, but I really hate showing my skin. Especially since this dress is super short. Call me a goody-goody, whatever.

Slipping on the shear tights and pulling the dress over my head, I make my way into my bathroom to take a look at my hair. It looks absolutely horrific, considering I had a horrible day with Parker's outburst and everything. Strawberry strands stick out in every direction, and the humidity in my room has caused it to curl a little. Darn. I worked hard to straighten it this morning. Oh well. I make a quick decision to add more curls to it with my curling iron since I don't have that much time left. After wrestling with the cord, I've finally got some decent looking hair. Alright, now for the shoes.

I sit on my bed and yank them on one foot at a time, hoping my outfit will look put together enough. Standing up, I teeter towards the mirror on the backside of my door. My eyes are squeezed shut and take a deep breath, forcing them open. Wow. In front of stands a women who looks nothing like me. She looks confident and beautiful, ready to kick some major ass. (cough...butt) The dress is pretty skin tight, but I'm able to breath properly. The boots make my legs look toned and longer than they really are, and I can't help but to admire myself. I look pretty good. Except for the fact that it's autumn and I'm going to freeze.

I sigh. Right, why didn't I think if this before? That's when my eyes land on my favorite stripped button up shirt. The blue and purple will look great with the black. Slipping it on my bare shoulders, I quickly roll up the sleeves and awkwardly teeter back into the bathroom. I put on a little bit more eyeliner and spread lipgloss on my lips before clipping a sliver necklace onto my neck.

Knock knock

"Crap," I mutter under my breath. He's here early. Good thing I'm ready... I think. No time to second guess.

I bypass the heaping pile on my floor and shuffle down the stairs. Before I open the door, I shake out my limbs and make a quick pass down the hall that leads to the kitchen, practicing my heels. Hopefully I don't fall on my face. I really, really, really hope I don't-

I stop myself by throwing open the front door. Oliver stands there, looking as smoldering as usual. He's wearing a My Chemical Romance t-shirt under a leather jacket. His hair sits messily atop his head just like normal, the blonde curls falling onto his forehead. The only thing that's different about him is his clear blue eyes. They stare at me, open wide with surprise. A minute passes before his smirk is back.

"Damn Red. You clean up nicely." He sticks out his arm for me to hold onto. I take it, thankful that I'll have something to steady me.

Pinky promise not to tell?
-Willow
::::::::::::::::

Hey guys. Hope you liked this one. The next one is almost done, so it'll be up in a bit. Love ya!
-Stargazer12647