+  F O U R +

"What do you mean, yes?!"

I'm momentarily stunned when my parents agree to letting Melanie and I attend a party. In Charleston. The only reason I'd said yes, was because I knew—thought, that they'd say no. My parents were known for saying no. It didn't matter what it was, if it was too expensive, or sounded sketchy—it was an automatic decline.

But now, seeing my mother smile while snuggled into my father's side, I can see why she's decided to say yes. She's happy. So, she's projecting it onto us the only way she knows how; love.

My father got a dazed, silly smile on his face as he playfully winks over at me. "Go on, have fun, bug. God knows you deserve it." A part of me is thankful that they're being so understanding in a situation with such circumstances, but another part of me is just utterly confused.

"So, you're telling me," I start off, "that Mel and I are allowed to go to a party. In Charleston?" My father shrugs, pulling out the keys to his truck out from his pocket.

"Is that not what you wanted?" He asks sarcastically, tossing the keys over to my sister with a careful bat of his eye.

Melanie grabs my forearm, dragging me over to the staircase. "Yeah, Jules. Stop questioning the poor man."

Once we back into our bedroom, and Melanie is pulling all sorts of colored outfits from her closet, I'm still in shock. "I can't believe he just handed you the keys like that. I had no idea it'd be that easy."

"Oh, Julia," she starts, laughing slightly. "This is not going to be easy. D'you you see that look he was giving me? If the truck comes back with even a scratch, I am so dead." I laugh along with her, knowing full well how right she is. My father loved his truck like a son—considering he never had any, the truck was a some sort of replacement for what he couldn't have.

She turns her attention back over to me again, gesturing to a navy blue sweater with stars. "So," She raises a suggestive brow. "How bout it?"

In all of my seventeen years of living, I'd never known my sister to take such a long while to get ready. She acted as though we would be walking the red carpet. But as for me, I settled with a battered pair of jeans, and the sweatshirt Melanie had offered me.

She, on the other hand, had decided to go all out. It was my best guess that she'd tried in every item of clothing in our closet. "You ready?" She asks, disconnecting a flat-iron she'd been using for the past half-hour.

"Are you ready?" I fire back, crossing both arms across my chest. She waves me off, spraying a few sprits of perfume on and her, and myself.

"Don't forget your shit," she nods her head toward my tank. I roll my eyes. How could I when it was the only thing keeping from dying tomorrow. Although, it was only holding me off for another three months.

     My cellphone read, 9:28, when Melanie parks my father's truck right outside of a suburban looking home, that has other cars parked along the other side of the road. Melanie looks over at me, giving me a warning sort of look as I push open the passenger side door.

"Yes?" I question, waiting for her to speak.

"You've never been to a party," she begins, and I roll my eyes. "Thanks for reminding me." She puts a hand out, silencing me. "We need to set some ground rules before we go in."

I gesture for her to continue, "like . . ."

"Like; no going upstairs with anyone you don't know, no taking drinks from random frat guys, no going to the restroom alone—and that's just the basics." I slip her a nervous smile, adjust the handle on my oxygen tank as she explains the rest of her "life-saving" rules. "With my rules, chances are, we'll never be the victim of a rape or murder."

I slide out of the truck, sighing defiantly. "You watch way too much tv."

Melanie and I walk side by side up the steps leading onto the porch, knocking loudly due to the loud music coming from the other end of the door. It's silent for a few seconds, before the door is being pulled open, revealing a sweaty boy I don't recognize. "Hey!" He yells excitedly, although, I know he doesn't recognize us either.

"Can I get you two ladies anything to drink?" He proposes. When Melanie and I both send a sharp, "no." His way, he frowns, mumbling under his breath before walking away.

I take in my surroundings, pressing my tank against the front of legs as people dance around me, smiling along with one another. Melanie spots someone on the other end of the room, putting a finger up to my face. "I'll be right back, okay? I've just gotta say hi to someone—hey, Murray!"

She's off not even a second later, and I'm left alone. I think about making my way into the kitchen, but I can already smell the pot oozing from that direction. Walking in there would be practically asking for to die right then and there; one inhalation, and I'd be done for.

There's a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around, frowning when I'm met face to face with someone I don't recognize. I can already feel my face relaxing when I take in his features. His mouth starts to move oblivious, him having no idea that I can't hear him at all. I watch his full, plump lips move as they send a small smile every once in a while.

I almost melt into hardwood flooring when he runs a hand through his dark, curly hair, dimples pulsing through his chocolate, delicate-looking skin. His lips abruptly stop moving, and there's a curious look on his face—as if questioning me.

"What?!" I try and shout over the music, as he pulls me into a corner, leaning in closer.

"Did you not hear anything I said?" He smiles teasingly and I try to giggle or swoon visibly. "No, sorry—it's just very, very loud in here."

He nods, his lips curling apologetically. "Sorry about that. But anyway, I was just saying that I think your oxygen tank is really cool, did you decorate yourself?"

My hopes and heart sink into my stomach when I realize that the only reason the cute boy wanted to talk to me was because my tank looked cool. I try not to show my thoughts as I explain how I had gotten a new one and decorated it so that it matched my bedroom. He thought that, that was cool, too.

"I should find my sister," I begin, trying not to feel bad at the disappointment rushing over his handsome face.

"Oh, man." He sucks at his teeth, leaning against a plain wall. He follows my line of vision and smirks at Melanie talking about with someone named Murray. "Well—it seems to me like your sister is quite busy, but I can totally keep you company if you're up for it."

There's another teasing smile on his face that's utterly contagious. My skin turns hot and red when he glances in my direction, his eyes burning into mine as he smiles brightly. "Yeah," I squeak out, "I'm up for it."