The Pursuit of Felicity

Chapter 8

"Does this look good?" Mel interrogates as she shows us yet another outfit. I lost count after four when she started mismatching the different articles of clothing. I also stopped caring if we're being honest.

"Yeah," Gen mutters from her place beside me on the couch. Her focus is locked on the colorful game displayed on her phone screen.

"You didn't even look!" Mel flails her arms around dramatically.

"I still go with the white shirt and blue jeans," I vote on the second outfit once more.

"Yeah, me too." Gen clearly doesn't care and Mel realizes this and lets out a disappointed sigh.

"You guys are no help!" She storms away without another word. I look to Gen, who appears completely unfazed by our friends frustration. She and I are both ready to leave and have been for the last half hour. Given, we started getting ready early because we knew Mel would have a crisis when it was time to pick an outfit.

"Why does she have to behave like this? You're also going to see your future boyfriend and you didn't conduct yourself in such a manner." This is what Gen decides to say once she breaks her gaze from her phone. Her small grin tells me that she's only teasing me but I need to stomp out this joke before it can grow.

"He's never going to be my boyfriend." Hopefully my long eye roll convinces her.

"Sure." Her small brown eyes skim over my outfit pointedly and she 'hmphs' me as if she knows I put some extra effort in. "You look nice."

"Thanks," I say through slightly gritted teeth. I may or may not have gone a little overboard in getting ready. I normally leave my hair down and put it in a ponytail when I get hot but today I tied it back in two long braids. I also opted for a yellow romper instead of my usual tight jeans and t-shirt combo. I shaved my legs for this outfit so he better acknowledge it, at least.

It takes twenty minutes for Mel to come out dressed in the second outfit she tried on. She pulled her hair up into a neat bun with a few strands out framing her face and applied light makeup to enhance her already feminine features. She looks to us as and gives her phone a short wave.

"The rides on the way." She collapses onto the recliner as if completely drained from the fashion show she just did. I want to comment that maybe she wouldn't be so exhausted if she didn't stress so much.

"You look good." She lets a nervous smile form on her face at my compliment.

"Thanks, you too." She nibbles at her nails. Her phone goes off a second later and she gasps quietly. "He texted me!"

"Saying?" I can't help but lean forward a bit. What if it's bad news? What if the party got shut down?

"He wants to know if we're still coming," she reads as her fingers hurriedly type a response. "I told him we're on the way."

"You texted back really fast." Gen's teasing comment elicits a panicked response from Mel.

"Thanks a lot, Gen." I give her an annoyed side eye as Mel goes off on a mini rant about whether or not she texted back too fast. She doesn't stop talking until we're in the car on the way to the party. She falls silent for the entire ride and I can tell she's lost in her own mind. I am, too.

I don't know why I'm coming to this party. Obviously, I was invited and want to go. But what am I going to get out of it? It's not like Cameron's going to magically change his mind and agree to sleep with me, not that I'd take him up on that offer. Unless, of course, he agreed to keep things no strings attached. Then again, would I even be able to? I scoff aloud at that thought- of course I would.

In short, I won't be leaving this party with anyone. I have enough respect to not sleep with Cameron's friends so I basically got all dressed up and left my apartment to knowingly come to a party where all I'll be doing is socializing. I want to sigh. What's wrong with me? Am I really that desperate to talk to this boy that I wasted a Friday night on this? I shake those thoughts from my head and come up with an excuse: I'm doing this for Mel and that's all. I'm not even friends with Cameron and he definitely was not a deciding factor in me agreeing to come to this party.

"If I can't get the ball rolling, can you bring me into a conversation with him?" Mel whispers the second we step out of the car.

"Of course." After assuring Mel, I turn to Gen curiously. "Are you going to scope out any of Cameron's friends?"

"Sure, why not?" She shrugs as we walk up the steps to the house. I push open the door and find a couple crowds of people scattered around. It's not like a frat party where music is blaring and people are dancing. Quieter music means more talking and we all know that Cameron is a fan of that.

We slowly travel further into the house and Gen excuses herself to find the bathroom. Mel and I set out to look for Cameron or Ashton. After a short period of searching, I spot the latter and lead the way over to him with Mel trailing me nervously. Luckily, he speaks before I can. "Cameron's in the basement." His finger is pointed at something behind me and I glance back for a second before remembering Mel's request.

"O-Okay." I try to think of a way to casually pull Mel into the conversation. I thought I'd have a few more seconds.

"I never did get your name," he says as he peeks around me to find Mel, who smiles up at him timidly.

"Melody...you can call me Mel."

"Okay, you can call me Ash." His hand extends for her to take and she accepts it willingly. I can practically hear her heart hammering in her chest as their hands swing together.

"I'm going to go find Cameron," I excuse myself after getting a secure nod from Mel. I start in the direction Ashton pointed in and come upon a cracked open door. I follow the set of steps leading downstairs and come upon a semi-filled room. It only takes me a second to spot Cameron, who's settled in on one end of the couch with a can of Pepsi in one hand and his phone in the other. I contemplate going back upstairs and socializing for a bit before stumbling upon him. It feels so awkward and planned to have come down here immediately upon arriving. I huff quietly and approach him, secretly wishing everyone else would simultaneously leave.

I come around the side of the sofa and he seems to notice me in his peripheral because his eyes trace my outfit from my feet up. I'm waiting for him to make eye contact with me and when he finally does, I notice a satisfied smirk on his face. "Well, look who decided to show up." I take a seat at the opposite end of the three person couch.

Everyone else seems to be socializing along the wall or from their impromptu seats on the floor. "Well, it wasn't really my choice." I make sure to match his merry expression. Before he can ask whose it was, I provide a topic of conversation. "Are you sure you're not stalking me, by the way?"

"You came here," he reminds me as he waves a finger around the room. I'm not sure if he meant the party in particular or the basement specifically. Either way, I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, after your friend tracked me down and invited me."

"Okay, so you think I'm stalking you because we go to a few of the same places around the same times?" Again with the puppy dog head tilt.

"No, no, no." I lean forward and wave my hands, "because you show up everywhere I'm at."

"This school is very small, you know." His dark eyes search mine and I can tell he's trying to see whether I genuinely mind or not.

"Don't I know." I press my back against the arm of the floral couch. It reminds me of my grandmothers for some reason, only it's red and pink. He shifts his position too and pulls his legs onto the cushion between us. They're too long to lay straight across so he has no choice but to bend them and rest his arms on his knees.

"You know, I've been kind of sad lately." The forced frown on his face cues me in that he's going to make a, likely stupid, joke.

"Really? Why is that?"

"You never texted me how your Chem exam went on Tuesday. I've been up late worrying about the state of your grade." He lets out a dramatic sigh and jokingly wipes at his eyes.

"I haven't gotten a grade back yet," I clarify, which causes him to perk up a little.

"So does that mean you're going to text me when you get your grade?" I let the tiny grin on my face linger before flattening out my features.

"Probably not." He scoffs quietly and I shrug defensively. "You can't be upset. I told you I'm not interested."

"No, you said that you're slightly interested," he emphasizes with a wag of his finger.

"A lot more disinterested." I trace circles on my thighs absentmindedly.