“Oh, look, it’s a couple of lesbians!”  you hear a voice yell.  You see a guy is now outside, heading into the garage.  Probably to get more of the beer that’s in the fridge in the garage.  He starts laughing at the two of you.  That is enough to make you feel like this whole situation is strange and weird.  You quickly let go of the girl and take one step back.  “Why don’t you two s go get a room so you can go and each other’s---”

“Shut the hell up!” the girl yells back at him.  “Jerk,” she mutters under her breath.

“No, you shut up, you little…”  Before the guy finishes his sentence, the girl starts to pull you away, leading you towards the sidewalk.  Once you two are on the sidewalk, you both start walking away from the house. 

“W-where are we going?” you ask nervously.

“Right here,” she answers, stopping in front of a car that is parallel parked next to the curb.  She takes a key from her pocket and unlocks the passenger side door.  “Come on, we’re taking you home.”

Oh hell no! No way in hell is some stranger gonna get you in their car.  You are definitely not gonna trust anyone, especially after what almost happened earlier.  Things are getting real scary, real fast. 

            “No!” you scream, pushing her away.  You start hitting at her lightly, the way most people do when they don’t want to actually fight but want someone to back off.  It is slap-fighting. 

            She comes close to you, trying to hold you again, “No, no, it’s okay,” that deep voice of hers says.

            “Get away from me!  Leave me alone!”

            “Listen, I just want to…”

            “No, I’m not going anywhere with you!”

            “Hey, stop.  Stop it.  Why are you hitting me when all I’m trying to do is help?”  You keep slapping at her arms every time she tries to touch you.  “Why are you acting so afraid of me?” she asks as she gets ahold of both of your hands, preventing you from slap-fighting anymore.  She keeps on holding your hands, “Trust me.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  The way she said it is so soft and sweet. 

That’s when you notice the look on her face, thanks to the illumination of the street light.  She looks really sad, her lips slightly parted and her brown eyes filled with confusion.  So, maybe you overreacted.  Maybe, she wasn’t going to try to do anything wrong.

“I…I…I…,” you stutter.  She lets go of your hands, and your arms automatically drop to your side.

            She looks towards the ground.  You tilt your head to the side.  Uh, is she okay?  “Do I scare you?” she asks you, just above a whisper.

            “Um…”

            “Am I that off-putting?” she asks, looking up.

            “No, I’m not scared of you…just I don’t want a ride home from you.  I don’t know you like that,” you try to explain.

            “Who’d you come with?” she questions you.

            “A group of girls from my school.”

            “Wanna go get them?” she asks, already heading towards the house.

            “I’m not going in there,” you tell her, “Besides, they wouldn’t care.  They’re just school friends.  They’re not my real friends.  Like, I never hang out with them or anything.  I was actually surprised they invited me to come with them.  I also think they’re probably too drunk to drive.”

            She walks back towards you.  “You have anyone you can call?”  You think about it.  The only thing in my little purse that went across my shoulders is your makeup.  You didn’t think to bring your phone. 

            “I didn’t bring my ph-” you start.

She whips out her cell phone from her pants pocket.  “Here,” she says.  You can’t call your mom; she lives three hours away.  You lied and told you were at a sleepover tonight.  You don’t have any real friends to call.  Only option left is Kevin, your eccentric older brother.    You dial the number.

            “Hello,” the voice answers.  Phew.  Thank God he answered.  He is usually asleep at this time.  Either that or at a punk rock gig or something.

            “Hey, Kevin.”

            “?  Is that you?  What’s wrong?  Why don’t I recognize the number you called me from?”

            “Don’t worry, I’m fine.  I just need you to pick me up from this party.  Um…a friend of mine let me borrow their phone,” you tell him.  When you say the word “a friend”, the girl nods a few times.  What the hell does that mean?  Is she happy that you called her that?  Because, in all honesty, you were just saying that.  Ya’ll weren’t friends yet.  You didn’t know her.  Or maybe she is just saying that she is your friend in a casual way, like she was here for you, her fellow female, when you were in trouble.  Or something.

            “What happened?”

            “Nothing,” you tell Kevin, “I’m safe.  I just want to go and spend the night at your house, okay?  Don’t tell mom or dad.”

            “Okay, where are you?”

            “I’m at…”  Dear God, where are you?  You don’t even know the address.  It was on the invitation, but you forgot, and Emil was the one that drove you here.  “Someone’s house…”

            “Where, , where?” he shouts, sounding panicked.  The girl tells you the address.  You tell Kevin.  “Thank you,” you whisper to her.  She gives you a thumbs up.

            “Okay, I’m coming.  Are you sure you’re fine?”

            “Yeah.  Bye, love you.”

            “Love ya, sis.”  You hang up.

            “Thanks,” you say to her, handing her the phone.

            “Sure.  Someone’s coming for ya?”

            “Yeah, my brother.”  There ends up being an awkward silence.  “You can go back in now if you want,” you tell her.

            “Nah, that party was getting boring anyway,” she assures you, “I’ll stay and wait with you just to make sure.”

 You don’t feel guilty for her having to wait outside with you.  When she says that the party is boring, something in her voice makes it seem like she really means it.  That, and the fact that she is one of the few people that isn’t drunk.  Maybe she hates parties like you do.  Then, why is she here?  You bite your lip, the silence awkward as hell again.  “So…what school do you go to?” she questions.

“What?” you ask.

“You said you came here with a group of people from your school.  What school do you go to?” she questions.

“Um…Central High.”

“No way, me too!”  Whoa, really?

            “I’ve never seen you before,” you say. It’s true; you haven’t.  You would’ve remembered seeing a cute, androgynous girl before.  Wait…CUTE?!?!?!  What…???

            “I just started going there like…a few months ago,” she laughs, “Besides, it’s a pretty big school.”

“I just started thi