Over the course of one night, Emilee, lovingly called Millee, threatens suicide but decides to spend one last night with her best friends. And so they- Brynn, Patrick, Charlee, Matt, Sammy and Spen...
"It's no big deal." She said finally, straightening up in her seat and pushing away my arm.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Matt asked.
Emilee nodded her head fiercely;
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get over it. We only went out...eight and a half months." Her voice became more and more hushed with ever syllable until 'months' was just a whisper in the wind. She shook her head again and, to my surprise, laughed.
"Guys are stupid. Sorry, no offense, but you're stupid."
Matt reached across the table and gently slapped her cheek.
"Wife beater!" Emilee cried, and everyone in the cafÃ© turned to stare at us. The regulars laughed, but everyone else looked offended. Matt, Sammy, Emilee and I were laughing loudest of all; our favorite thing was public disturbances. Emilee was fine.
"So..." Sammy began, stuffing the last fry in his mouth, "Friday night, gentleman...and lady," he nodded towards Emilee, "What are we gonna do?"
Innocent little Sammy wasn't quite as innocent as he appeared. His Friday night hobby was getting trashed then vandalizing the high school. He never got caught, though; he was fairly quick in his drunken state. Plus, Monday at school when an assembly was called to 'discuss a serious problem', no one suspected him for a second because he was 5'2 with big blue eyes.
"I dunno, wanna go down to the park for a couple of hours? I've got some weed." Matt said casually.
"Ugh, Matty, I told you not to do that stuff when I'm around." Emilee looked disgusted.
Matt sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Then what do YOU wanna do, Millee?"
"Let's..." Emilee's eyes sparkled with the possibilities of our future, "I don't know. Let's go for a walk and see where life takes us."
I frowned; Emilee wasn't usually this...poetic and weird. But Matt and Sammy agreed, so I went along with it. I threw down a five on the table- Friday was my night to pay- and we left the cafÃ©. The February night was crisp, but California never gets unbearably cold. Emilee jumped onto my back;
"Piggy back, Tricky!" she squealed.
I laughed and held onto her legs. The four of us set off down the street, talking and laughing. But something made me worry about Millee- she didn't seem to be herself.
Swing, swing was pulsing through the speakers outside the nightclub.
"Awh, I love this song!" Emilee cried, glancing up at the big neon sign with awe. 'Night Pulse', it proclaimed. This place had been around since our parents were kids. You had to be twenty-one to get in, but no one really enforced that rule as long as you didn't order alcoholic drinks. Everyone in town knew each other; if some kid went into Night Pulse and got trashed, his parents would hear about it in about ten minutes.
"You in the mood for dancing, Mil?" I asked.
Matt opened the door for us and I let Emilee jump down off my back. The four of us entered the dance club, music growing louder and louder.