Favorite Friend

Royals

tw: recreational drug use, panic attack

My mom isn't amused when I come home the next morning after having breakfast with Aaron and his parents, but luckily she's running late to work and doesn't have time for more than a short scolding that ends with me promising to at least leave a note next time I decide to go to Aaron's house in the middle of the night.

Once she's gone, I spend the next few hours watching a bunch of animal documentaries, all while ignoring the mess in my room and the remains of the thought log still scattered across my desk.

The anxious tremor comes back once afternoon fades into evening, but Aaron keeps his promise. At seven, he sends me a text that says hey!! i'll pick you up in thirty :), followed by that's seven-thirty btw. He knows that I always worry about having misunderstood something, so he usually sends me something like this, a calming confirmation that everything's going according to plan.

I get up from my bed for the first time in hours and walk over to my wardrobe, which, like the rest of my room, looks like a garbage dump. It's hard to find anything to wear in it as it is and even harder to find something to wear to a party. And not just any party, but a White Teeth Teens party where everyone will be wearing brand items and polo shirts and fancy jewelry, none of which I own.

I'm about to send another panicked text to Aaron, but a new message from him pops up before I can even begin to type. It's a picture he took of himself in the mirror; he's wearing cuffed jeans and one of his patterned shirts, this one dark green with a bunch of lemons on it, unbuttoned just enough to show his collar bones. 

My mouth goes a little dry at the sight of the hand holding the phone, two silver rings glinting on his fingers, and the flash of a bright smile just barely visible from behind it. He captioned it this is what i'm wearing fyi!! just put on something that makes you feel comfy :)

Item number two hundred and forty-two: Aaron always seems to know exactly what I'm thinking, even when we're miles apart. It's kind of creepy, honestly.

After getting dressed in jeans similar to the ones Aaron is wearing, a slightly over-sized t-shirt that Elena helped pick out last time we were shopping, and my slightly dirty Converse, I walk over to my nightstand. Next to the little pill container, the stack of magazines and my alarm clock stands a small glass bottle. It's the cologne that my dad gifted me for my last birthday to help me pick up girls. I've never touched it before, but the memory of Chloe and her vanilla perfume makes me want to try.

I'm not sure if there's a difference between how men and women are supposed to apply it, but in the end I just end up mimicking what I watched my mom do hundreds of times in the bathroom; I spray a little bit on my wrists before I lightly touch them against my neck. It's a nice fragrance, kind of lemony with a wooden undertone, and I feel a little bit more confident as I snap the lid back onto the bottle.

As I set it down on my nightstand again, my eyes suddenly fall on the necklace next to it. It's a delicate band of gold with a little cross dangling from it that I got from abuela after my First Communion. For years, I wore it every day, just like my friendship bracelet. It was when I was sixteen, after sitting on my bed crying every night for weeks and whispering shaky pleads for forgiveness into the dark because I wanted to kiss Aaron, that I took it off and never put it on again.

I tear my eyes away from it after a few seconds and abruptly get to my feet, only stopping to grab my phone. However, I've only set one foot outside when the next door down the hallway gets yanked open and Elena steps out.

"Oh, hey!" she says. With a furrow between her brows, she steps closer to me and sniffs a few times. "Are you wearing cologne?"

"Uh... yeah?"