Catherine's Friend, scene-ish thing 3

PROOF READING DOESN'T EXIST IN MY WORLD.

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Alexa hadn’t been in on the plan before, but early Friday afternoon she showed up with two brown paper grocery bags full of cheap beer. Catherine and I had never really liked her because she tried to dress like a rocker, but she was the one who had told our seventh grade class all the dirty details of sex and who’d gotten me a pack of cigarettes when I wanted to try smoking in ninth grade. So as long as she could bring alcohol, she could come help us host. That’s what we told her when she’d called about I flier we’d put up on her block.

“We thought we’d have an open bar here,” Catherine explained and gestured toward a collapsible table we’d set up off to the side in the living room. Alexa grunted in recognition and dropped her bags on the white plastic table.

“You’re house is even ritzier on the inside,” she said to Catherine, who blushed. I thought that was an awfully rude thing to say, and I told Alexa as much. She just shrugged it off.

“I’m just saying it’ll be a big deal if the house gets ruined, is all,” she answered. “Even if you have a ‘plan,’” – she made obnoxious quotation marks in the air with her fingers – “some shit is bound to get busted. You sure you want to open this thing up to the whole city?”

“Of course we do,” I snapped.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why not?” Catherine countered.

“Because it’s stupid,” Alexa answered.

“Then why are you here?” I said. She glowered.

“I like a good party,” she admitted.

“Exactly,” Catherine said proudly and even stuck up her nose a little. Then without a word to Alexa went off into the kitchen to start pouring potato chips into bowls. We’d argued about it earlier– food wasn’t really necessary– but Catherine was afraid people would get hungry and go through her fridge, so we got the cheapest we could find.

I could see Alexa over in the sitting room, and she was lounging on the couch with her stupid combat boots on the coffee table.

“I don’t think she’s going to leave,” I said to Catherine.

“Shoot,” she said back as she opened a chip bag. “Should we kick her out?”

“We said she could come,” I said and passed her a serving bowl.

“To the party.” Catherine dumped the entire bag into the bowl and stray chips went scattering across the counter. “We never said she could hang out before.”

“Well then you kick her out,” I said. “It’s your house.”

“I can hear you,” Alexa called from the sitting room.

Catherine blushed again and bent over the counter, focusing everything on picking up lost chips. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t want to confront Alexa in a house that wasn’t mine. So we just stayed quiet and didn’t talk much for a while as we prepped the house for the party. Alexa eventually feel asleep on the couch, which we hadn’t covered yet. We decided we’d do it when the party started and Alexa would have to wake up.