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“I didn’t exactly choose this.”

Once again I pull down my skirt, but it seems like every time I pull it down, it raises more and more up my legs.

“Well, complain to Brook. She was the one who said you were into this kind of stuff.”

“That’s because she is!”

They continue arguing as they move towards the front door of Andrew’s house.

Brook is going as Harley Quinn, and she went as far as to put on a blond wig with blue and pink tips. Her shirt is showing off her pierced belly button, my gift for her sixteenth birthday, and her shorts are so short they seem more like panties. The only thing saving her from walking around half naked are the black fishnet stockings, which don’t hide much at all.

“Lia, explain to her that you loveHarry Potter,” Brook looks over her shoulder at me expectedly. “And hurry up.”

Sighing, I look down at my bare legs. I have knee high boots on, but there is a lot of skin left in the open between the top of the boots and hem of my skirt.

“Of course I loveHarry Potter.”

The only problem is, this costume has nothing to do with the books or movies. I guess this is supposed to be a sexy version of the uniform, but I don’t know how to do sexy. Awkward, clumsy, and uncomfortable are more like me.

The upper part consists of a white shirt with a red and gold tie, Gryffindor colors, of course, over which is a corset. The skirt is black and falling down mid-tight. I also got a black hat and cloak. I like the cloak. The sleeves are tight on the upper arm part and then become larger as the fall down my forearm. But it’s also so short!

Just like the last time, the house is filled with people, only this time they are superheroes, vampires, werewolves, fairies, angels, demons, bunnies... you get the picture.

The music is as loud as I remember. There is food and drinks.

Everything is … like always.

Like nothing had happened.

And for them, it didn’t. This is just another Friday night. Just another party where they’ll drink and talk to their friends, maybe dance and make out with somebody until the night is over.

Then, they’ll repeat it all over again next week. And so on.

“Here you go, birthday girl.” Brook smiles at me and puts one red cup in my hands, she herself, nursing the other.

I look down at pinkish liquid.

“What is it?” Whatever it is it can’t be worse than beer. I bring the cup to my mouth. It smells sweet, like some kind of berries. Blackberry? Or is it raspberry?

“Something special, just for us.” I take one small sip and let the cool, sweet liquid run down my throat. The taste of alcohol is barely there, so I take another careful sip. “But don’t let it fool you. The sweet things can knock you on your butt faster than you can say pinktail.”

“Pinktail?”

“Pink cocktail. It’s my own creation.”

I look back down to my glass and then slowly lift my eyes to meet hers. Her makeup is heavy with lots of eyeshadow, red lipstick, and a small heart painted under her right eye. “You did this?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t put in anything poisonous,” her eyes harden as something behind me catches her attention. “I’m saving that for someone special.”

I peek over my shoulder and see Derek coming our way with Max close at his heels. They’re both unmasked if you don’t count the Wolfs hoodies they are wearing.

“Let’s go dance.”

Brook grabs my hand and starts pulling me behind her. She does the same to Jeanette who’s been in the kitchen trying to dig out something without alcohol to drink. She is our DD for the night, so she is stuck with water.

“Brook, you know I…”

“Bottoms up.” She doesn’t let me finish. She tilts her head back and drowns what’s left of her pinktail down her throat. “Your turn.”

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