The Walk Home
“Yo, that party was crazy!” Tiffany laughed clapping her hands together.
“Yeah,” I agree distractedly. It was dark and chilly as we made our way back to Tiffany’s house. I could’ve sworn I was wearing a sweater. My mind was foggy from the rum and cola Tiffany kept pushing on me.
“Did you see Damien tonight?” she asked not waiting for my response. “He looked mmm, damn he looked good. Damn him. And did you see those ugh, girls he was dancing with. Like they could compare to me.” Damien was Tiffany’s on and off boyfriend. “And did you see that last girl he was dancing with. I didn’t get to see her face. I was dancing with Tommy but she was all over him. Slut,” she said dismissively.
I tripped at this. I was the girl dancing with Damien. We were still friends. We had three classes together and talked all the time online, though I failed to mention this to Tiffany. But in my defense she never let me get a word in. Besides, she didn’t own him and it wasn’t like anything was going to happen.