They Walk - By Amy Lunderman Page 0,2

yourself already.” I mumble halfheartedly.

Finding jean and a graphic tee, I turn around to make my way to the bathroom. I come to standstill and drop the clothes in my hands. A girly sounding yip slips past my parted lips, as I just about jump a foot off the ground, all before I can even move one step.

Claire stands before me with her hands on her hips. Obviously she has mastered the art of being a ninja.

“For the love of mike woman!” I am literally gasping as I say this. Who knew she could be so stealthy. “What the freaking hell? Get a friggen bell will you!”

She has the nerve to glare at me, like I am the one that scared her or something.

“Mags, come on. You have to look hot tonight. We are actually going out to a party, with people, people who will also probably look hot.” She literally stamps her foot at me. “Plus drinks will most likely be served.”

I shrug as I grab for the clothes at my feet.

“Well…if there is alcohol…then why do I even have to look hot? No one will even remember who I am after an hour or so.” I say as I try to make a bee line around her.

Unfortunately she’s not convinced. Like the before mentioned ninja, she blocks my path. Her eyes go all beady as she narrows them at me. Dude, she is so going to make one terrifying mom one day.

I shudder at the thought.

“That’s reason enough isn’t it?” She sparkles, the beadiness fading back into her scary innards. “You’ll have to try even harder to impress the inebriated. Besides, I know Matt will love it. For me, please?”

Dammit.

She is always doing this to me, playing the whole Matt card thing.

It totally sucks for me that it works every time. She is right too. I know he would love it if I tried to look a little sexy, even if he’ll only end up probably picking on me for it. I always look like I’m playing dress up in fancy none comfy clothes.

I know I should just give in. She’ll never stop being infuriating if I don’t. She never does.

I sigh. “Fine, you win. I’ll do my hair and use that weird glitter face lotion you got me for Christmas.” I wiggle one boney finger at her as she backs away with a knowing smile. “But that’s all you’re getting out of me tonight, so don’t even try anything girlie.”

She throws her hands in the air in surrender. Then marches back over to my closet. The digging commences for a second before she turns back to me. My heart rate spikes at the sight of her. God I’m such a chicken. I should have known she’d end up forcing me into wearing something I’d hate.

It happens every time and yet I’m still shocked that it occurs.

But something strange happens next. She eyes the skirt I’m still wearing and says. “Let me have that skirt you tried on, I think I want to wear it.”

Ha! I so win this round, yay me!

Of course, by the time Dan come’s barging into my room forty minutes later to see if we’re ready, I’m not so sure of my win. Mostly because I have a serious aversion to getting dressed up. Oh the horror, I know. What girl hates getting dressed up right? Well…she would be me.

I must say though, I am rather satisfied with my hair tonight. It’s usually a giant mass of frizziness. Now it falls down my back in soft waves. God bless spray in conditioner. It almost makes me kind of excited to be going out…almost, but not quite. How I became so brilliantly optimistic at my young age surrounded by outgoing family and friends I’ll never know. Clearly they all see something beneath my negative charge of an outlook on life, which is good. Otherwise I’d be very much of a loner. And that I am not.

Yet.

Getting downstairs is a lot of work. I blame Clare. She’s buzzing with excitement, something I lack. If I had to compare her to anything, I’d say she resembles that of a lightning rod currently, only because she is bouncing in her way too high heels. Clearly she’s excited to move onto her next conquest. Something tells me that she’ll be disappearing on me as soon as we get to the party. In fact, if she had any sort of super power, it would totally be teleportation. Waiting is like