{Chapter 2}: I'm a Barbie Girl, In A Beer Boy World It seemed like a lot of changes were happening today. After dropping Layla and Gabriela home, I'd headed straight for my house. I promised my little six year old brother that we'd watch Shark Tales together tonight. He'd never seen it. I was filled with disappointment when I got home. My mother left a note on the dinning table, letting me know that she'd dropped off Michael at his friend's house and that she wouldn't be home tonight. Just like every other night, they'd paged her in for another overnight shift at the hospital. I wasn't stupid - bills were accumulating and she was forcing herself to work overtime. All so we could make ends meet at the end of the month. A part of me wished I could do more to help her out. But with my mother overexerting herself, someone had to be home to watch over Michael. We couldn't leave him alone. I'd resulted for a babysitting gig that brought in enough cash flow to cover weekly expenses like groceries and gas money for our cars. This way I got to stay home and keep an eye on my little munchkin. My phone pinged with a text message from Gabby as I aimlessly wandered the corridors of my house, a bottle of Naya adorned in my hand. I flinched at the sound, forgetting how eerily quiet it got when both Michael and my mom were out of the house. I hated it. It made me feel like I was slowly suffocating. Almost as if the narrow walls of our little town house would close in on me, until not a single ounce of breath was left in my lungs. When my gaze drifted over an old family photo, carefully perched on the wall above the bench by our entrance, a feeling of nostalgia washed over me. I was thirteen and my parents cradled a one year old Michael in their arms. The more I stared at the picture - one I'd gone over a thousand times as I flitted in and out of the house - the feeling of nostalgia, trapped deep in my chest, morphed to something like distress. Until I felt my breathing pick up speed. The joyous smiles on my parents' faces were taunting me and I snapped my eyes away, not wanting to look a second longer. In a moment of panic, I drained my entire bottle of water and went to dispose of it in the kitchen. The yellow curtains by the sink billowed softly in the air coming through the open window. It only emphasized the feeling of loneliness in my house. I was abashed to find my palms clammy, the aftermaths of pondering over old memories. Desperately trying to control the sudden high of emotions running through me, I opened Gabby's text message for a diversion. Please, please, tell me you're going to the party tonight? - G My response was quick, seeing as I didn't need to contemplate too hard on it. No. -A Why not? -G Because I've got better things to do. - A That was a massive lie. It was Friday night and I had the house all to myself. Since it was only the first week of school, I didn't have a heavy workload. Nor was I babysitting tonight. Her reply was faster than mine. You're a terrible liar. Bet you my new Beyoncé CD you're dying of boredom in your room. - G I gritted my teeth. Close enough. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm about to put on a movie and get cozy with my blanket. -A And Pepsi. Let's not forget that. -G Your point being? - A I need a ride to the party. Layla's hitching one with another friend. My mom managed to piss me off - unsurprisingly - so this calls for booze. FYI, booze that I can get at a party for FREE. C'mon, Anna. I'm on my knees in front of you. Think of that appealing image. -G I don't swing that way, babe. And my answer remains the same. No. -A I thought for sure that Gabby was done. In the midst of shoving my phone back in the confinement of my cardigan, I paused when I received another text from her. This one had me stopping dead in my tracks, mouth dry with realization. You need to live a little more. -G It was just a sentence, but the words felt like they weighed a ton. I needed to live a little more? Where had that gotten me last time? Nowhere. If anything, I lived "a little more" and gotten myself in shit for it. I had a lifetime of guilt resting on my shoulders. A harmless night of animated movies, coupled with loads of junk food was what I needed. Not a party where the idea of a good time consisted for getting shitfaced and having drunk sex. Shaking my head, I went to turn off my phone when Gabby texted me again. Anna, it can't hurt. Just one party. You don't even have to drink. Be a good friend and give me company. It'll be great - greater than a night of popcorn and boring old chick flicks. Like old times. -G She was guilt tripping me and she damn well knew it. For a whole year, Layla and Gabby constantly tried to haul my ass out of my room to do something "rebellious" or "fun". Asides from today, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd went out with them or came remotely close to enjoying myself. Except for my little episode with Samuel Adams this afternoon. The thought of the blond-haired-and-green-eyed giant brought me to an abrupt half. Would be he there, too? Was he going to keep up his facade and try to talk to me? Suddenly, I looked around me and realized that, to some extent, I didn't want to be home alone tonight. Gabby was right. Staying cooped up at home wasn't going to do me any good. I'd be faced with conflicting thoughts - thoughts that left me in an turmoil.